


supermassive black hole (not the cool kind)

by kadtherine



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Young Avengers (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, Gen, M/M, Marvel 616/MCU Crossover, Post-Young Avengers Vol. 2 (2013)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-12
Updated: 2019-11-29
Packaged: 2020-05-02 07:47:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 19,592
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19194697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kadtherine/pseuds/kadtherine
Summary: "Billy woke up to a headache and an arrow aimed at his neck."***Billy somehow ends up in the wrong universe, surrounded by familiar strangers. Surely, nothing bad could come out of the situation, right?





	1. Billy, I have a feeling we're not in the right universe anymore.

**Author's Note:**

> I've been working on this story for a while and I think that it might be one of my favourites ??? i've ever written ?? so the stakes and hope are high. I'll try to update as often as I can - I've already got four chapters written, so there's that - but I won't make any promises. I really hope you like reading it as much as I liked writing it ! (unbetaed, all faults are mine)

Billy woke up to a headache and an arrow aimed at his neck.  
  


 

 

To his surprise, and utter confusion, he wasn't lying in his bed, but on the cold tiles of an unfamiliar kitchen floor. His eyes felt dry and throat hoarse. Despise the threat of getting an arrow stuck through his throat, Billy didn't feel like getting up. The floor was cool and soothing. His hands twitched to his side, the tip of his fingers tingling. The bare thought of conjuring an electric field shield or casting a spell caused a small whimper to escape his dried lips. Which caused the arrowhead to press against his Adam's apple, the weapon moving along as he swallowed.

  
  


Billy's ears suddenly popped and he was reminded that sound was actually a thing. He winced, squeezing his eyes shut as noise and voices filled the space around him. He inwardly wished for the monkey in his head to stop using his brain as a drumkit, finding the hard way that spells didn't work   if he didn't actually spoke them into existence. Which was utter bullshit, if you asked Billy. Clenching his jaw, he tried to ignore his throbbing and focus on the voices talking above him. To his growing frustration, Billy quickly found out that none of them sounded familiar.

  
  


He didn't recognize his mother's laughter as she listened to his father's easy chatter in the morning. He couldn't hear Teddy's humming as he shuffled around the room. Jameson's morning nagging, coming from the living room's TV downstairs, was blissfully non-existent. Which did absolutely nothing to ease Billy's weariness. All he heard was angry whispering and noncommittal hums being passed around like gases. Billy inwardly cringed at the thought; if he wasn't 87.987% sure of having a concussion, he'd probably repeatedly hit his head on this stranger's floor until he'd knock himself unconscious. At the back of his mind, a voice that sounded a lot like Tommy chortled before whispering something about twin minds.

  
  
  


“-ou can't just threaten unconscious people,” a deep voice protested, his voice a mix of exasperation and disbelief.

  
  


Billy perked up at that, stopping himself from nodding. Whoever that guy was, he liked him. He sounded like a cool dude. Then again, whoever preventing Billy from having a hole in his throat was good in his books.

 

“The guy appeared out of nowhere,” another voice retorted, nonplussed. “And trust me, he isn't unconscious. Breathing pattern's all wrong.”

  
  


Cree- _py._

  
  


“That's not an excuse,” a third voice intervened, tone lighter and intonation slightly familiar.

  
  


Billy's brow furrowed as she began mumbling under her breath. He had tried to reconcile each voice to a person, assuming the two first people had been me. He had drawn a blank before the third intervention. Before she started mumbling in a language that wasn’t English but that he understood, nevertheless.

  
  


**Wake up.**

  
  


Billy felt the softest touch and his stomach lurched at the familiarity. Instead of flinching back, Billy let out a slow breath  when she brushed his fringe back, her fingers careful, and touch soothing. He unconsciously leaned in as she moved her hand from his forehead to his cheek, singing softly under her breath.

  
  


**Wake up.**

  
  


“What is it?”

  
  


The singing stopped as she slowly withdrew her hand. Billy swallowed a whine at the lack of contact. “I don't know,” she replied, her voice accented, “I can't see anything. I can't get through his mind.”

  
  


**Wake up.**

  
  


The words echoed in his mind a third time, slightly louder, and Billy registered that they weren't his. They were hers, silencing his own voice and knocking against his mental barriers, trying to get past them. Interesting. Cree-py but interesting, nevertheless. After a few seconds of pondering, Billy decided to let out a loud groan, people falling silent as he made a show of waking up. He pressed the heel of his hands against his eyes until black spots started to form in his vision. Letting his arms fall back to his sides, Billy repeatedly blinked until his vision was clear. His head tilted to the side, he frowned at the chandelier hanging above his head. Pretty sure neither of his parents had suddenly decided to buy a chandelier. Billy groaned again and rubbed a hand across his face.

  
  


“You okay, son?”

  
  


Billy startled, because boy, oh boy did that voice sound clearer – and oh, so familiar - when his brain wasn't being turned to mush. His eyes latched onto the tall and muscular personification of patriotism staring back at him, his arms crossed against his chest and muscles stretching the tight grey shirt he was wearing. His throat suddenly dry, Billy blinked and shook his head as the object of his geek, gay dreams stared at him in silence, in obvious concern. The thought of his fiancé – and his glaring absence – was sobering enough to bring him back to the problem at a hand. More precisely, the fact that Steve Rogers, a.k.a Captain America was standing in front of him and didn't show any sign of recognition.

  
  


Billy tore his gaze from the super soldier to the smaller man standing next to him, clad in purple and wearing sunglasses even though they were inside. Billy watched with wide eyes as a supposedly dead archer lazily sharpened his arrows, silently threatening. Different scenarios were running through his mind, each one crazier than the other and Billy briefly wondered about asking his mother if necromancy were in the cards. That'd explain Clint Barton's presence. With a gulp, he tried to lift his upper body, pushing himself off the floor.

 

“Here,” Billy looked down to find a hand wrapped around his arm, helping him in a sitting position, “let me help.”

 

He deliberately chose to focus on the hand instead of looking up. He stared at the chipped black polish and sharp nails. At the rings she wore on her fingers, at the blue ink stain on her left wrist, at the red sleeves pushed back to her elbows. She squeezed his arm and instead of violently pulling away, Billy let unconsciously himself relax, a wave of calm going through his body. He looked up and sharply inhaled when meeting dark brown eyes. He found himself unable to look away, staring at her dark hair swept to the side and trussed in a side braid. At her face, devoid of make-up. At her eyebrows, frowned in concern and confusion. At her eyes, staring back into his. She looked so young – shit, she barely looked more than a couple of years older than him. She looked millenas away from being the most powerful Avenger.

  
  


Billy narrowed his eyes and leaned in, their foreheads almost touching. He barely paid attention to Hawkeye's sudden interest in their exchange, the latter being restrained by the good Captain.

 

“Wanda?” he breathed out, his voice hoarse. Billy heard the two men's sharp intake of breath and inwardly pat himself on the back for not letting a Scarlet Mom slip from his mouth.

  
  


From the corner of his eye, he could see Barton's body tense, fingers twitching as if itching to grab an arrow. “How do you know her name?”

  
  


Inwardly cringing, Billy raised two fingers to his head. He could already feel the beginning of another headache – this one, not concussion-related.

 

  
  


* * *

 

 

Wanda woke up to blue lights and a loud bang.

  
  


She had been dozing on the couch after a long session of sparring with Natasha, book sliding out of her hands when it happened. Startled out of her daze, Wanda had jumped out of the couch, her hands held out in front of her and her feet grounded, ready to attack whatever opponent or menace. The facility was eerily quiet as Wanda made her way toward the kitchen, swallowing the urge to call out. Her footsteps were light and slow, barely brushing the hardwood floor. The absence of alarm blaring was disturbing. The absence of noise after such a large commotion was disturbing. While still on guard, Wanda wracked her mind on what to do next. She had no way of contacting any member of the team. Not that it would do her any good, seeing as Natasha and Sam were out while Rhodey was away on assignement.

  
  


She was about to call for F.R.I.D.A.Y when she arrived at the kitchen's threshold, her entire body sighing in relief when she caught sight of Clint's familiar purple hoodie. His back was to Wanda when she took a step in, his head tilted to the side silently acknowledging her presence. As she got closer, she noticed the quiver of arrows, forgotten next to a half turkey sandwich on the kitchen counter. Frowning, Wanda looked around for the threat, briefly wondering if Clint had already neutralized it. As she was about to voice the question, she noticed the archer crouching down and, in a blink, nocking an arrow, eyes sharp and focused as he pointed his weapon toward the floor.

  
  


Following its trajectory, Wanda gasped. Lying there was a man -  no, a boy - unconscious. He waS wearing some sort of red cape over a grey ensemble, his black hair covering most of his face. Wanda found herself drawn to HI not because of the strange energy coming from him or mere curiosity. She found herself drawn in by the familiarity. Wanda ignored Clint's hissing behind her and held out a hand without looking at him. The tip of her fingers tingled and, with a grimace, Wanda clenched her hand into a fist, breathing through her nose until it stopped shaking.

 

“What are you doin', Wendy?” Clint muttered.

  
  


She bristled at the nickname, tightening her fist as she turned to glower at him. “What are _you_ doing? He's just a boy, there is no need for that.”

  
  


“I'll be the judge of that,” he retorted, cocking an eyebrow at her, “And he is the guy who appeared into a supposedly secured facility in a blue explosion, interrupting my lunch.”

 

Wanda rolled her eyes, turning her back to him as she kneeled onto the floor. She went to comb his fringe back before she thought about it, letting her hand fall to her side and pulling her long sleeves over her hands. She didn't have to touch the boy to know that he was in obvious pain, beads of sweat slicking his hair against his forehead and brows furrowed. His fingers twitched and Wanda restrained the urge to cover his hands with hers.

  
  


“You should get Cap. Or Vision. Or both, really.” Clint intervened, breaking the silence.

  
  


Swallowing a groan, Wanda turned around and held up a hand, fingers twitching as red tendrils wrapped themselves around the arrow, freezing the weapon into place. Lifting her pointer finger, she twirled it in the air until her magic wrapped itself around Clint's wrists, moving it to the left to change the arrow's trajectory. Usually, she'd marvel at the control displayed and absence of outbursts, but Wanda was too disturbed by how easy it had been to manipulate him. Pushing the thought at the back of her mind, Wanda turned back to the boy and frowned when noticing his pupils rapidly move under his eyelids. She was barely aware of the loud steps walking in the direction of the kitchen until hearing Steve's voice.

  
  


“What the hell is goin' on?”

  
  


“Took you long enough,” Clint grumbled, ignoring the look Steve sent his way. Wanda kept her eyes on the unconscious boy in front on her, not wanting to meet Clint's eyes after the stunt she had pulled.

  
  


Looking over her shoulder, she caught Steve's eye long enough for him to notice the boy lying at her feet. Eyes wide, he walked into his kitchen, standing a few feet in front of Clint and, by doing so, blocking the latter's view. He blinked, as if mentally assessing the situation, and Wanda used his distraction to his advantage, observing him. Unlike Clint, Steve didn't carry any weapon – or, in his particular case, a shield – nor did he seem to view the stranger as a threat. As if noticing her scrutiny, Steve slipped on a blank expression, his jaw clenched when he turned back to Clint. Wanda knew she could easily slipped into his head, read his thoughts and get out without breaking a sweat. But she didn't. She couldn't.

  
  


“Clint, look at the kid. He barely registers as a threat, probably couldn't hurt a fly,” Steve protested, startling her out of her thought, “Beside, you can't just threaten unconscious people.”

  
  


As the stranger's breath quickened, Wanda didn't mention that Clint's caution wasn't unfounded.

  
  


“The guy appeared out of nowhere,” Clint retorted, “and trust me, he isn't unconscious. Breathing pattern's all wrong.”

  
  


“That's not an excuse,” Wanda intervened, looking over her shoulder.

  
  


Meeting her gaze for a brief second, Clint scoffed and rolled his eyes, muttering under his breath as he used his arrow to scratch the back of his neck. Wanda let out a sigh of relief, a small smile tucking at her lips as she cocked an eyebrow at Steve. The latter shook his head, the corner of his mouth pulling up in a half-smile. It slowly vanished as he looked back down, a frown taking its place. Wanda followed his eye to the boy, the latter breathing louder. Her head tilted to the side, she whispered soothing words, slowly lifting a hand above his head.

  
  


Her bottom lip stuck between her teeth, Wanda conjured a beam of magic and lowered her hand to his forehead, twisting her fingers around the red tendrils of energy. She smiled as his breathing pattern gradually went back to normal, his hands still by his sides.

 

“Can you get him to wake up?”

  
  


Wanda did not jump at Steve's question. Her heart skipped a beat as she threw a quick look over her shoulder, finding both men staring at her. She didn't detect any trace of disapproval or distrust in the Captain's  voice. Just mere curiosity. Clearing her throat, Wanda frowned and tilted her head to the side. Her hand was frozen above his forehead, a hair away from it. She was as uncertain about her powers as everyone else.

  
  


“I am not sure,” she whispered, rubbing her fingers together, “maybe.”

  
  


Letting out a trembling breath, Wanda closed her eyes and let her hand rest on his forehead, focusing on two words.

  
  


**Wake up.**

  
  


As if hitting a wall, the command bounced back in her own mind and Wanda restrained the urge to flinch back. His forehead was warm and clammy against her palm, his black hair brushing against his fingers. Opening her eyes, Wanda brushed back his hair and inwardly reminded herself to breathe when seeing his unobscured face. For a brief second, Wanda was back in Sokovia, Pietro's head on her lap and his chest moving up and down as he slept, book hanging from limp hands. Her eyes burned and it was nothing to do with her powers. Swallowing the lump in her throat, Wanda shook her head and cleared her throat, her fingers tangled in black hair. His hair was black, not white..

  
  


**Wake up.**

  
  


Her fingers traced familiar features as she let her hand slide from his forehead to his cheek, humming to herself. The boy leaned under her touch and Wanda found herself unable to tear her hand away. The silent command, somehow, managed to make a crack through the wall. Wanda risked a peak, her eyes narrowing at the absence of noise. She'd been bracing herself for the mess that was the human mind, ready to dodge and redirect thoughts only to find a void. Not a void, but an unnatural stillness and manufactured silence.

  
  


“What is it?”

  
  


From the corner of her eye, she could see Steve standing next to Clint, his arms crossed and his frown mirroring the archer's. Relucantly withdrawing her hand, Wanda shook her head.

  
  


**Wake up.**

  
  


“I don't know. I can't see anything. I can't get through his mind, it is-”

  
  


Wanda cut herself off at the loud groan coming from the floor, her eyes wide opened. She crossed her legs and pushed herself backward, giving him the space he needed as he came back to his senses. He lifted trembling hands to his face, rubbing his eyes before letting them slide off and Wanda found herself staring in deep brown eyes. His eyes were brown, not blue. His hair was black, not silver. His eyes were brown, his hair was black, Wanda inwardly repeated the mantra, her hands clasped on her lap. Her eyes flickered to Steve, the latter frowning in concern at the now awake stranger.

 

“You okay, son?”

  
  


He startled at the voice, his eyes widening when noticing Steve. Wanda didn't intervene, keeping to herself as she observed his reaction, silent and curious. She could hear Natasha's voice prattling on and on about body language and facial expressions. Her head cocked to the side, she watched. He didn't look scared despite finding himself in an unfamiliar environment or the two men standing over him. It didn't look as if he was about to make a break for it, or attack either of them. If anything, he looked...confused and slightly worried.

  
  


Wanda could pratically see his mind racing a mile a minute as he tried to piece everything together, wide-eyed gaze moving from Steve to Clint. She watched as his throat bobbed up and down, his eyes closing for half a second before he decided to push himself up. As she watched him struggle, Wanda decided to make her presence known, wrapping a hand around his arm while the other placed itself on his back.

  
  


“Here,” Wanda grimaced when she felt his tense muscles under her hand, “let me help.”

  
  


As if she had cast a spell, Wanda felt him relax under her touch. Taking it as a positive sign, her grimace shifted into a small smile as she began to rub circles on his back. He looked up, brown eyes meeting green, and Wanda found herself unable to look away. She didn't dare blink, she didn't dare breathe as he narrowed his eyes and leaned in, vaguely aware of Clint and Steve shifting behind her.

  
  


“Wanda?”

  
  


She almost flinched back at the sound of his voice, hoarse from disuse. His voice was deeper that she had expected it to be, her name in his mouth hesitant. Not because he was uncertain of her identity. It was almost as if he had been about to say something else.

  
  


“How do you know her name?” Clint asked, his tone falsely bored.

  
  


Wanda turned around to scowl at him, the latter responding with a look of his own while Steve shrugged when meeting her gaze. It was a legitimate concern. Clenching her jaw, Wanda turned back around to find the boy rubbing his head in discomfort.

  
  


“Cause I know all three of you,” he paused, cocking his head to the side as he let his gaze rack over each of them, “At least, a version of you,” he added, his head ducked as he scratched the back of his neck.

 

Whatever _that_ meant. She didn't have to turn around to know that both Clint and Steve probably shared her confusion. As if aware of the sudden silence surrounding him, he looked up and flashed them a small smile, a hand raised in a wave.

  
  


“Oh, I'm Billy, by the way.”

  
  
  
  
  


 


	2. it only gets worse from here

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tommy had his own theory : Billy was a _fucking_ moron.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the amazing feedback and kind words, it means a lot !! i'm glad you like this story as much as I do !

 

 

Teddy woke up to a pounding on his bedroom door and the left side of his bed cold.

  
  


Not bothering to open his eyes, he groaned and grabbed his pillow, throwing it at the closed door. He could hear Liam and Andy's snickering get further away from the door, their mother's chastening the two. Letting a yawn, Teddy turned to lie on his back and rubbed his face with both hands before stretching his arms over his head. He grimaced when his shoulders popped and, with a sigh, let them fall back on the bed. Teddy frowned when he didn't hear Billy protest at the bed jostling. His frown deepened when he blindingly went to brush Billy's back only to come in contact with nothing. Suddenly wide awake, Teddy sat up, his eyes snapping open.

  
  


Well, that explained the silence. Teddy ran his hand over the mattress and covers. He clearly remembered Billy coming to bed the night before, their fingers intertwining together before falling asleep. And yet, it looked like he had barely sat or moved the covers. Teddy leaned against the headboard and pushed back blankets, looking for a crumpled note or any evidence indicating that Billy had woken up earlier. When finding nothing, he looked toward the walk-in bathroom.

 

 

“Bee?” Teddy called, voice heavy with sleep.

  
  


 

He got no response in return. Looking down, he frowned when at the absence of light coming from under the door. Suddenly wide awake, Teddy jumped out of bed and, in a couple of strides, closed the distance between his bed and the bathroom. He didn't stop to hesitate as he turned the knob and pushed the door open, only to be met with darkness and emptiness.

  
  


_Something was wrong, something was wrong, something was wrong._

  
  


Teddy felt his heart sink as he flicked on the lights and walked into the bathroom, his eyes scanning every nook and corner. Not that he'd find Billy hidden in the medicine cabinet, but one could never be to careful. Teddy tried to keep his panic at bay. _Something was wrong, something was wrong, something was definetely_ **wrong.**

  
  


Teddy let out a yelp when knocking began again, this time softer. Clearing his throat, he turned off the lights and walked back into the room, picking a shirt and hoodie off the floor.

 

“Boys?” Dr Kaplan's voice called and Teddy swallowed a curse as he shrugged a shirt that was definitely too short to be his size, “Breakfast's ready!”

  
  


“Be right there!” Teddy called back, sniffing a shirt draped over the back of Billy's desk chair before he pulled it over his head.

 

  
  


He waited until he heard her steps move further from the door, letting out a long breath as he tried to collect his thoughts. Teddy walked back into the bathroom and turned on the faucet, the rush of cold water drowning any other sound as he stared into his reflection. Perhaps he was dreaming, perhaps he was still asleep and would wake up any moment now. As if to test his theory, Teddy pinched the inside of his elbow and winced. There goes the dream theory. Swallowing his panic, he cupped his hands under the faucet and rinsed his face, biting back a wince as the coldness hit his face.

  
  


Teddy roughly wiped his face with his shirt, uncaring as it clung to his chest when he closed the faucet and stepped out of the bathroom. Combing his hair back, Teddy disconnected his phone from its charger and frowned at the lack of unread texts or missed calls from Billy. Unlocking it, he quickly went through his notifications only to see a text from Kate, reminding them that they'd all – apart from America – must meet later that day. He quickly wrote back a response, hesitating a second before adding a question about Billy's whereabouts and locking it.

  
  


The commotion coming from the living room reminded Teddy that he eventually had to get out. Grabbing his hoodie off the floor, he stuffed his phone in his back pocket and walked out of the room. Sounds and voices got louder as he got closer to the kitchen. Much to his concern and confusion, none of these voices belonged to his fiancé. Bracing himself for the onslaught of questions, Teddy let out a breath and plastered a smile on his face as he rounded the corner.

 

 

 

“Mornin',” he greeted, faking a yawn as he slipped on his hoodie

 

 

 

Andy and Liam had seemingly been placated, calmly eating their cereals while reading comics. They didn't bother looking up from their bowls at his entrance. Jeff gave him a small smile, leaning against the kitchen counter as he waited from his coffee to brew.

  
  


“Rough wake-up call, uh?” he asked, cocking an eyebrow at him.

  
  


Taking the bait, Teddy straddled the bench facing the brothers and playfully narrowed their eyes at them. “Somethin' like that.”

  
  


 

Jeff snorted at that before pushing himself off the counter and grabbing the coffee pot. He held it in a silence question and Teddy nodded, the corner of his mouth quirking up. Rubbing his eyes, he fully turned to face the table and grabbed two slices of French toasts, dropping it on his plate and blindingly reaching for the maple syrup. Teddy had quickly fallen into a routine when moving in with the Kaplans, each gesture repetitive and familiar. Yet, as he looked to his left and was reminded of Billy's glaring absence, he felt his heart beat in his ears, his world suddenly off-kilter.

  
  


Teddy was startled out of his thoughts at the sound of high heels on tiles and looked up to find Rebecca walk in the kitchen. She smiled as she caught his eye and ran her fingers through his hair as she passed him by.

  
  


 

“Mornin', Dr K.”

  
  


“Morning, Teddy,” she greeted back with a smile before it slowly vanished, her brow furrowed in confusion, “Is Billy still asleep?”

  
  


 

Teddy didn't attempt to cut through the toast before he shoved it in his mouth, giving himself time to think of an excuse as he chewed. Grabbing the jug of orange juice, he filled his glass to the brim and didn't look up when feeling several pairs of eyes staring at him. _Thinkthinkthinkthink_.  Teddy winced as he swallowed the food, the juice bitter as it went down his throat. He felt his phone buzz against his thigh and discreetly used two fingers to slide it out of his pocket. His eyes widened when he read the caller ID flashing on the screen.

  
  


“Tommy!” Teddy blurted out, plastering a sheepish smile on his face when his outburst startled the two in front of him. Pushing his phone back in his pocket, he cleared his throat and looked up to where Jeff and Rebecca were standing, both wide-eyed. “I mean, Tommy's in town for a few days and Billy wanted to spend some time with him before he left. Pretty sure they'll spend the day together.”

  
  


“Huh,” Jeff said, dropping a steaming mug of coffee in front of Teddy's plate. “I didn't even hear him leaving.”

  
  


“I wasn't even aware Tommy was in the city,” Rebecca lamented as she leaned against the counter, her fingers wrapped around her own cup, “it's been a while since we've seen him. Do you know how long he'll be here?”

  
  


 

Teddy shrugged and took a large gulp of coffee, his shoulders sagging in relief as they moved on from the subject. He looked up when hearing Andy's and Liam's twin groans.

 

 

 

“We were supposed to go to the arcade today with Jack and the guys!” Andy whined, letting his spoon fall back in his bowl of milk. Rebecca clicked her tongue at him, frowning in disapproval. The younger boy was slightly chastised, wiping milk off the table with his sleeve. “Billy promised.”

 

“I'll bring you,” Teddy intervened, jumping at the opportunity of changing the subject, “Besides, I'm way cooler than Billy. Just give me the time to put some food in my stomach and change into clothes that aren't pyjamas.”

 

 

 

They brightened at his words and, after an exchanged look, brought their bowls to their mouth, each trying to drink quicker than the other. Teddy hid a smirk behind his coffee when Jeff admonished them, saying that they'd make themselves sick and wouldn't be able to go out at all. He snorted when they unsurprisingly slowed down, wincing. Teddy made a quick work of his breakfast, getting up and making his way toward the dishwasher despite Rebecca's protests.

  
  


Grabbing his mug of coffee off the table, Teddy stopped in front of the kitchen's door and let a sharp whistle to attract the brothers' attention. When they both met his eyes, Teddy tapped his finger against his wrist and raised two fingers, indicating that they'd be leaving in two hours. He didn't wait for them to respond before he turned around and walked back to his room, distracted by the buzzing against his thigh.

  
  


Teddy downed his drink in a couple of gulps, putting the empty mug on Billy's cluttered desk so he'd have both hands free. He frowned when noticing that, except for Teddy's missed call, all ten unread texts came from Kate. Not that such an amount was unusual. Kate, apparently, didn't believe -  whatever that meant – in novel-long texts and preferred to send multiple one-sentence messages. Sometimes, she didn't bother with full sentences. One word sufficed in certain situations – like the corny Assemble ;) she'd send on the days they were supposed to meet as a team. Bracing himself, Teddy leaned against the desk and clicked on Kate's oldest text.

  
  


**hawklady** : _haven't seen or talk to young willy since last thurs._

  
  


**hawklady:** _y?? something wrong???_

  
  


Andy and Liam's bickering about shower turns outside of his reminded Teddy that he was on borrowed time. Biting the inside of his cheek, Teddy stared at his phone for a minute, his fingers twitching as he thought of an appropriate answer. He pushed himself off the desk and quickly typed an answer, sending it without checking for misspells. He knew there wouldn't be any mistake in it. He also knew that his two-word answer would have the affect of a bomb when received and understood. Teddy turned off his notifications and threw his phone on the unmade bed, two words echoing in his mind.

  
  


**Billy's gone**.

  
  


* * *

 

  
  


Tommy woke up to Kate forcefully shoving him off the couch and the news that his brother was gone.

  
  


The last statement had been enough to shut down any of his protesting, his heart skipping a beat or two – or stopping completely – and words echoing in his mind. Billy couldn't be gone. He would've known. He would've felt something: weren't they supposed to be spiritual twins or something like that? Teddy would've known if Billy was gone. After noticing his growing panic, Kate had been quick to reassure that his brother hadn't passed away but gone in a more literal way. Tommy had allowed himself to breathe then, his breathing slowing as he had fallen back on the couch, an arm draped over his eyes. Which had prompted Kate to throw him off the couch a second time, muttering something about coffee and emergency meetings before asking a barely awake Tommy to go on a breakfast run.

  
  


Which brought them back to this very moment, each one of them swallowing gallons of coffee while trying to focus on Kate's rant. If you asked Tommy, that whole meeting-thing was useless seeing as they had next to no information about the situation and half of the team wasn't even present. His hands wrapped around his Styrofoam mug, Tommy clenched his jaw and situated himself over the back of the couch, elbows resting on his knees. He was vaguely aware of a shirtless Noh-Varr prancing back and forth from the kitchen to the living area, humming to Carly Rae Jepsen. Tommy frowned as he watched Nor-Vah dropping into an armchair, a towering pile of pancakes on his lap; was the dude allergic to clothes or something?

 

Shaking his head, Tommy blew over his drink and took a long sip before redirecting his attention to Kate. He had to stop himself from rolling his eyes at the sight of Kate walking back and forth in front of a blackboard, mumbling to herself as she paced.

 

 

 

“This is useless,” Tommy voiced his thoughts, unaffected by the glare Kate sent his way.

 

  
  


“As is your opinion, which you've shared with us three times in the last couple of minutes,” she retorted, running her fingers through her hair. Her gaze drifted down and sighed, “Prodigy, yours on the other hand, I actually care about.”

 

 

 

Tommy followed her gaze and snorted. That explained the sudden weight against his thigh. The usually irreproachable David Alleyne didn't fare better than the rest of them. He had barely addressed any of them when coming in, grunting a thanks to Noh Varr when he was handed a mug of tea and glazed donut before dropping in the couch. And promptly falling back asleep, as it seemed. Tommy smothered a grin at the sight – he resisted the urge to adjust his crooked glasses or stare at his gaping mouth – and, clearing his throat, nudged David's shoulder with his knee.

  
  


Startled awake, David would have let the steaming mug fall out of his hands and on his lap if it wasn't for Tommy's fast reflexes. His hand began to vibrate over the drink, a cold mist cooling it before he handed it back to David with a wink, the latter mindlessly bringing to his lips. Kate giving a loud – obnoxious – clear of throat brought their attention back to the front, Tommy cocking an eyebrow at her to show that she had his full attention. Judging by her eyeroll, she wasn't fooled. David, at least, had the decency to look ashamed about being caught.

  
  
  


“Sorry,” David clenched his jaw to stop a yawn from escaping his mouth, “you were saying?”

  
  


“Theories,” Kate said, tapping her chalk against the blackboard, “hypothesis, thoughts, epiphanies; just give me somethin' that can help us in any way.”

  
  


“Abducted by some supervillain?” he threw in, his tone lacking conviction.

  
  


Kate cocked an eyebrow at him, looking as unconvinced as he sounded. “Without Teddy noticing? Doubtful.” It didn't stop her from writing it on the board and circling it with a big flourish.

 

“What are the chances that he actually left on his own accord and we're overreacting?” Noh Varr proposed, shoving an entire pancake in his mouth.

  
  


Tommy restrained the urge to roll his eyes. “Inexistent,” he muttered, sipping on his coffee.

  
  
  


 

He did roll his eyes when Kate nodded and added it the board. Tommy watched as she tilted her head to the side, tapping the piece of chalk against her mouth before she added a third bubble to the blackboard.

  
  
  


 

“The multiverse is a thing, right?” Kate muttered, as if she was thinking aloud. She didn't pay any attention to their perplexed nods, nibbling on her bottom lip as she wrote, “What if Billy got sucked in a different universe or something?”

 

 

David and Noh Varr gave non-committal hums and nods. Tommy yawned. He had his own theory, not that anyone would take him seriously if he said it. His theory – that had been proven time and time again – was that Billy was a fucking moron. Tommy had known the guy for a couple of years and was still baffled by his brother's stupidity sometimes. Tommy was convinced that, on top of the good looks and common sense, he had inherited all the smart. Not that anyone else would think so, Altman being too whipped to remark on it and Kate being too biased to say anything. David and Noh Varr had just gotten here, but Tommy was sure they'd pick on it soon. Tommy wondered how Billy had survived as long as he had. He guessed having Altman by his side helped.

  
  


 

“We need America,” David said, squinting at the blackboard, “I mean, beside Billy, she's the only able to travel through the multiverse, right?” he added, looking at Tommy.

 

 

 

Tommy widened his eyes at him and lifted a shoulder in a shrug. How should he know, he hadn't been present for that particular debacle. David rolled his eyes and Tommy smirked, nudging his shoulder with his knee.

  
  


 

 

“Yeah, I know,” Kate sighed, running her fingers through her hair, “I'm waiting for her to call me back.”

  
  


Tommy downed the rest of his coffee and stole Noh Varr's stack of pancakes. “That's our game-plan? Waiting?

  
  


 

 

He effortlessly caught the chalk Kate threw at his head before throwing it back. Dodging it, Kate scowled at him and crossed her arms, petulant as she went to sit on the armrest of Noh Varr's chair. Tommy winced when she cracked her fingers against her chest, her eyes narrowed at the board.

  
  


 

“We're stuck while waiting for America. And Teddy,” she added with a grimace.

  
  


Tommy frowned, shoving a forkful of pancakes in his mouth before he took his phone out of his pocket. “Where is Altman anyway?”

  
  


“Distracting Billy's brothers, keeping them occupied,” Kate shrugged.

  
  


“For how long?” David asked, accepting the fork Tommy handed him, “they'll notice Billy's missing eventually.”

  
  


“Not if his twin brother takes his place,” Noh Varr suddenly sat, his eyes bright.

 

 

Kate's eyes widened as she snapped her fingers and pointed at him, a smile tugging at her lips at the prospect of a plan. Tommy swallowed a groan and threw his head back. He liked Noh Varr better when he kept his mouth close. He could already see cogs turn in Kate's mind as she creepily stared at him, imaginating him as Billy. Tommy took a breath and got ready to shut her down because there was so much wrong with that not-even-half-of-a-plan. One, he and Billy were two completely different people – Tommy being the better one – and his parents would immediately notice that he wasn't Billy. Two, even if they didn't, he would get bored of it within the first ten minutes. Three-

 

 

 

“His fiancé's a fucking shapeshifter,” Tommy spluttered, “can't he do it?”

  
  


“And then the Kaplans notice Teddy's missing and we're back at square one,” Kate retorted without missing a beat. Tommy bit back his tongue and the urge to retort that the Kaplans would probably care more about their son than his fiancé's sudden disappearance

  
  


“You just have to fill in for Billy for a while.”,” David intervened - because of course he would, the fucking traitor – in a teasing tone, “it's not like you're going to snuggle with the guy.”

  
  


“You would like that, wouldn't you?” Tommy mumbled, the words leaving too fast for him to process before regret sunk in.

  
  


 

Time slowed down for a bit, David's teasing smile twisting into a grimace before he cleared his throat and plastered an obviously fake smile on his face. David sat up and scooted toward the couch's armrest, both of his hands wrapped around his mug as he loudly slurped his drink. Tommy opened and closed his mouth a couple of times, speechless for a minute. Maybe stupidity ran in the family. Then again, maybe it was the lack of warmth that had been provided by David's proximity.

 

Tommy barely registered Kate jumping out of her seat. He did feel the sharp pain that followed her slapping the back of his head. He yelped and turned around, flinching back when she glared at him.

 

 

 

“Stop being a jerk, you're doing it,” Kate barked, her tone softening when she turned to David, “I'm going need you to swing by Westchester, try to gather as much information as you can.”

  
  


“Will do,” David nodded, emptying his mug in one long gulp before jumping off of the couch.

  
  
  


It almost seemed as if he couldn't leave the room fast enough. Tommy wouldn't blame him. With a sigh, he let himself sink onto the couch and dropped the plate of now cold and soggy pancakes onto the coffee table. Tommy was oblivious to Kate taking his previous place until the latter dug her toes into his side. He flinched away from her, his glare leaving her unfazed. Running her fingers through her hair, Kate turned her head toward Noh Varr.

 

 

 

“We'll go to the Avengers Mansion and try to see if they know anything,” she rolled her eyes when the Kree gave her some kind of curtsy, still sitting. Tommy restrained the urge to gag, wincing when Kate kicked his side again. At this rate, he wouldn't be surprised if he ended up with bruised ribs. “And you-”

  
  


“Will catch up on sleep while you're all out,” Tommy interrupted with a mirthless grin. Kate stared back at him, unimpressed, and he scooted away. Just in case. She raised both eyebrows at him and Tommy groaned, “Fine. I'll go talk to Mo-Wanda. If anyone's going to have a clue where to start, it's her.”

 

 

 

Tommy hoped that Kate wouldn't have caught on the slip of tongue. By the way her gaze softened, he guessed she had. He shouldn't be surprised. After all, when had things ever gone his way? Tommy cleared his throat and avoided Kate's knowing stare, scratching his jaw.

 

 

“Sounds like a plan, team,” Kate announced, her tone lighter.

 

 

 

Tommy nodded repeatedly at that, cleared his throat again and yelled, “Dibs for the shower!” he vanished in a blur. He flashed into the guest room and closed the door behind him, slagging against it for a minute, his eyes closed. Letting out a loud sigh, Tommy racked his hands through his hair, thoughts racing in his mind. He pinched the bridge of his nose. He could already feel a headache form at the back of his skull. Tommy opened his eyes. Blinked. Breathed in. Breathed out. It didn't do shit.

  
  


Hitting his head against the door, Tommy pushed himself off  it and went to check on his charging phone. Unsurprisingly, he had no unread texts or missed calls from his brother. He opened the thread between Teddy and him, hoping for an update. Tommy let out an irritated huff when rereading hour-old messages before he exited the conversation, quickly typing a message to his – Wanda to inform her that he'd stop by her place. He didn't disclose Billy's current disappearance, preferring to talk about it face-to-face with her.

  
  


Tommy didn't wait for a response, turning it off before he grabbed his travel bag and moved to the bathroom. He didn't linger under the hot water, fighting the urge to fall back asleep as he quickly washed his hair with one hand while brushing his teeth with the other. Shutting off the water after a mere five-minute-shower, Tommy quickly dried off and shook the water out of his hair before slipping on dry clothes. He didn't bother running a comb or even his fingers through his hair as he stepped back into the guest room, only to throw the empty bag on the armchair and unplug his phone.

  
  


He yawned into his elbow, ignoring Noh Varr as he sped down the stairs and walked back into the living room. Kate was nowhere to be seen and all previously discarded plate or cup had been either placed in the sink or dishwasher. Turning on his heels, he froze when noticing David leaning against the kitchen's cupboard, focused on the phone in his hands. Sniffing, Tommy gave a small cough, his eyes darting up as he entered the kitchen. He could feel his eyes on him as he made his way to the coffee machine. His jaw clenched, Tommy turned so he could face David, the latter back on typing on his phone.

  
  


 

“Want some?” Tommy blurted out. He inwardly cursed himself when David looked up, a frown plastered on his face. Rubbing the back of his head, he pointed to the brewing coffee. “Cup, I mean.  Of coffee.

  
  


David pocketed his phone, his lips pursed – as if trying to contain a laugh. “I'm good. I'm about to head out anyway.”

  
  


Tommy hummed, walking toward him “Let me tell you about that amazing invention mankind came up with called-” he paused dramatically and reached behind David's head, opening the cupboard, “travel mugs.”

  
  


David stared at the travel cups in Tommy's hands with a blank stare before looking up, the latter waggling his eyebrows at him. David snorted and held out a hand, oblivious to Tommy's relief as he placed one of the cups in his hand.

  
  


“Well, when you put it like that,” David sighed. Tommy clicked his tongue and winked at him, reaching into the fridge for milk and cream, “You going somewhere too?”

  
  


“Uh, yeah,” he kicked the fridge close and reached for the coffee pot, filling three thirds of his mug, “going to talk with Wanda, see if there's anything she knows.”

  
  


David hummed as he reached for the coffee pot, pouring it in his mug. “Good luck with that.”

 

 

 

Tommy cocked an eyebrow and raised his mug before filling it with cream and sugar, much to David's disgust. He watched as David mindlessly stirred his coffee with one hand, the other reaching for his phone in his pocket. Nibbling on his bottom lip, Tommy tapped his fingers against his mug, restraining the urge to move from one foot to the other. David pushed himself off the counter, his movements slowing down the longer Tommy stared, the latter trying to predict the other 's next move. That was the small advantage of having superspeed: the brief illusion of premonition.

 

 

Tommy blinked and mimicked David's position as time seemed to regain its normal speed. He blew over his drink, mulling over his thoughts to find something to say.

 

 

 

“Do you need a lift to Xavier's?” were the words that ended up coming out of his mouth.

  
  


David froze midmotion, his jacket half on. “Uh, I'm good. Thanks, though.”

  
  


Tommy clicked his tongue and nodded. “Cool.”

  
  


 

David snorted and Tommy inwardly cringed, shaking his head. He followed David out of the kitchen and to the front door, the two of them silent as they walked down the hall. A silence that was weighing on Tommy's shoulders – and conscience.

  
  


 

“Alleyne,” he spoke up when David went to open the door. The latter turned to him, an eyebrow raised. Tommy clenched his jaw. “Sorry for being a dick, earlier. It's just, like,” he waved a hand in the space surrounding them, “whenever things go to shit, I tend to turn into an asshole.”

  
  


David kept quiet for a minute, his head tilted to the side and eyes narrowed when he said, “When aren't you an asshole?”

  
  


 

Tommy frowned and was about to protest when he noticed the mischievous glint in his eyes and the smirk finding its way on David's face. Tommy scoffed and rubbed his mouth, unable to stop a smile from spreading.

  
  


 

“Fuck you, that's what I get for apologizing.”

  
  


 

“Oh, is that what that is?” David shot back, his smirk widening when Tommy flipped him off. His smirk softened into a small smile as he twisted the knob behind his back. “We're good, Shepherd.”

  
  


 

Tommy smiled back and nodded. “Good.”

  
  


 

David tapped two fingers to his temple in a mock salute and Tommy responded with a peace sign, smirking when he rolled his eyes before walking out. Tommy allowed himself to breathe when the door closed behind David. Running his fingers through his hair, he then stuffed a hand in his pocket and took a long gulp of his coffee. Emotions were fucking draining.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Once again, please comment to tell me what you thought about it. Kudos are always nice, so I won't be mad if you left some too. You can always follow me on Tumblr, @oldbitchsteve. Till next time, beautiful people ! 
> 
> Kadi.


	3. alexa, play justin bieber's 'what do you mean'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _“How the hell did you get here?”_
> 
> _Billy shrugged "That's a good question. Let you know as soon as soon I have it figured it out."_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> once again, thank you so much for the feedback. it means a lot! this chapter - like the previous ones haven't been beta-read, so all mistakes are mine. 
> 
> hope you'll enjoy !!

 

“ _Oh, I'm Billy, by the way.”_

  
  


Had Tommy been here, he would've probably face-palmed. Or slap the back of his head. Or both. Probably both. Billy inwardly cringed at the greeting, his hand falling back to his side as he stared at the three confused Avengers staring back at him. One of them being an alternate version of his mother. Billy groaned, bringing a hand to his forehead.

  
  


“Are you feeling alright?”

  
  


“How the hell did you get here?”

  
  


“What did you mean by that?”

  
  


Billy groaned louder at the onslaught of question, his fingers massaging his temples. He felt warm fingers wrap around his wrist and looked up to meet Wanda's gaze, the latter shooting him a small smile, her brow furrowed in concern and confusion. Billy felt his headache ease at the contact, his weariness slowly vanishing. Wanda gave his wrist a squeeze before she looked up at Steve.

 

“We need to call Dr Cho,” Wanda's tone didn't leave any room for argument

  
  


“We,” Barton intervened before Rogers could answer, “need to find out how Billy-boy there,” he waggled a finger in his direction and Billy bit down the urge to say that pointing was impolite, “got here in the first place.”

  
  


“Good question,” Billy muttered, rubbing the back of his head. He winced when his fingers brushed against a large bump. Withdrawing his hands, he let out a sigh of relief at the absence of blood. He was definitely concussed, though. “Where is here, exactly?”

  
  


Billy's question went ignoring by the three, Wanda scowling at Barton before she redirected her attention toward Rogers. The Good Captain stared back at her for a hot minute before he let out a sigh and threw his head back, his eyes on the ceiling.

 

“F.R.I.D.A.Y.”

 

Billy frowned at that. “Huh?”

  
  
  


How would stating the day help them in their predicament? Was it even Friday? He was supposed to bring his brothers to the arcade, so it couldn't be Friday. As if annoyed by his confusion, the monkey that had previously been playing drums with his brain seemed to think that now was a good time to start again. Once again, Billy went ignored. He wasn't surprised. He could already see a pattern forming. Running a hand over his face, Billy went to open his mouth when a robotic voice interrupted.

  
  


“ _Dr Cho has been contacted. Shall I inform Ms Romanoff and Mr Wilson of the newest arrival?”_

  
  


Scratching his jaw, Rogers nodded. “Might as well.”

  
  


Billy blinked after following the “exchange” - if you could even call it an exchange – before he shook his head and immediately regretted it. His hiss of pain seemed to remind everyone of his presence, all gazes focusing back on him. Wanda squeezed his wrist again and it took all of his restraint for Billy not to lean against her. He would move away from her but she was the only thing keeping from falling back onto the floor, one hand around his wrist while the other hovered behind his back. And though the thought of sliding back onto the cold floor sounded like a good to him, it wouldn't solve anything, nor leave a good impression. Not that it had been great so far.  

  
  


Billy rolled his eyes at the train of thoughts and tried to ignore the mocking, nagging voice - that sounded a lot like Tommy – in the back of his mind. Instead, he focused his attention on Rogers who, after another long minute of staring at him with crossed arms, narrowed eyes and bulging muscles, had decided to go and pick a stool to drag a chair, placing it in front of him. Billy watched, transfixed, as Rogers turned the chair around and straddled it, resting his crossed arms on the back.

He gulped, Rogers staring down at him. And though he wouldn't usually mind having Captain America staring intently at him, Billy's mind was clouded enough with the attention.

  
  


As if reading his thoughts – it was highly possible, his mental barriers weakened by his current state – Wanda turned to him. “Do you need help standing?”

  
  


“Yeah,” Billy huffed out, “that'd be great, thanks.

 

Gritting his teeth, Billy pushed himself to his feet with a small wince, finding comfort in Wanda's touch. The latter stood beside him, her hands held out as if ready to catch him if he were to fall. Billy allowed himself to lean against her for a minute, shoulder-to-shoulder, and he felt a sudden surge of energy. Billy wasn't sure if Wanda was aware of what she was doing. Her expression didn't betray anything as she loosely wrapped an arm around his waist. He had to bite down a smile when noticing that he could rest his chin on the top of her head if he wanted. Not that she was taller than Billy back home but he tended to forget their weight difference when curled up in her arms.

  
  


From the corner of his eye, Billy could see him Barton staring at the two with narrowed eyes and resisted the urge to flinch back. Barton's gaze drifted to him for a minute before he let out a small sigh and kicked a stool his way. He didn't even spar him a look as he moved to pick his grilled cheese. Billy let himself fall onto the stool with a grunt, Wanda's hand stopping him from falling backwards. Steadying himself, he shot Wanda a small smile before meeting Rogers' intent gaze.

  
  


“How's the head?” Rogers asked with a jerk of his own head.

  
  


Billy sighed and rolled his shoulders back. “I have been better. Been worse too. Whatever, it's fine, it'll pass,” he dismissively waved a hand when Rogers tilted his head to the side, confused. “Ask what you really want to ask.”

  
  


He saw Rogers' mouth quirk up in the mockery of a smile before being replaced by a blank expression. He was also pretty sure he had heard Barton snort behind him. To his surprise, Wanda was the one that spoke up next.

  
  


“What did you exactly mean when you said you knew a version of us?” she asked, clasping her hands in front of her.

  
  


He cringed at that, tilting his head from side to side as he considered his next words. “Exactly that.” Good, Billy. Not beating around the bush. Straight to the point. Good. Now, own up to it. “It's complicated,” he added when seeing the confused frown on Wanda's face.

 

“Uncomplicate it, then,” Clint said, seemingly unbothered as he squeezed ketchup on his sandwich.

 

Billy wrinkled his nose in disgust before he shook his head, focusing on the subject at hand. “I,” he cleared his throat, “I mean it's pretty obvious, isn't it? Or not,” he muttered when being met with blank looks, “I know you. And you know me. At least, like I said before, versions of you do. Which you aren't. And I don't think that I'm making myself  any clearer. Basically,” he wracked both of his hands through his hair, tugging at it in frustration, “something's clearly very wrong and I'm not in the right reality.”

 

Time seemed to freeze, all falling quiet as Billy clasped a hand on his mouth, trying to stop more words from coming out. His breathing laboured, he didn't dare look up from his lap. He was, however, vaguely aware of the absence of chewing noises and Wanda's sharp inhale. From the corner of his eye, Billy could see her look at Rogers, as if looking for guidance. Or silently telling him that they needed to lock him up.

 

“Wait, let me get this straight,” Rogers spoke up and Billy resisted the urge to snort, “you're saying you know alternate versions of us, as in,” Rogers narrowed his eyes at him, trying to grasp and fully understand his words, “from an alternate universe?”

 

 

Billy mimicked his expression, his head cocked to the side. “You don't sound that surprised.”

  
  


  
  


“Guy's been frozen in ice for almost a century,” Clint intervened between bites. Apparently, the conversation wasn't important enough for him to stop eating, “gods and aliens are a thing, I would have been extremely disappointed if alternate realities weren't. Still doesn't explain how you ended up in this particular reality and place.”

  
  
  


Billy opened his mouth before closing it, lost for words. He hadn't expected them to believe him that quickly. Judging by Barton's weary tone, he wasn't completely convinced. Billy wasn't completely dumb either – despite what some people like to claim – and he knew that the archer's nonchalance was all but an act, goading Billy into lowering his walls. He couldn't feel Wanda prodding in his head anymore, but he could sense her curiosity, her eyes never straying away for too long. Rogers had fooled him once. Billy bitterly remembered uneasy beginnings, the condescending words and threats.

  
  


But then again, this was a different universe. Those were different people. Billy couldn't blurt out whatever came through his mind and expect them to shrug it off. He gritted his teeth and swallowed a groan. There was something extremely unsettling about being stared at like he didn't belong. Billy couldn't put a name on the feeling, but it was familiar. Too familiar. He bit the inside of his cheek, thinking over each word before he considered opening his mouth. What he could say and what he should avoid saying without being suspicious.

  
  


Billy gave a little shake of head, as if to clear his mind, and shrugged. “That's a good question. Let you know as soon as soon I have it figured it out.”

  
  


Barton's eyebrows jumped higher on his forehead. “What, you mean you don't know? Do you make it a habit of transporting yourself into a different universe or somethin'?”

  
  


“Kinda,” Billy replied, formulating his response as a question. He could almost feel Barton’s patience thinning, arms crossed against his chest and eyes narrowed at him. “It’s hard to explain.”

  
  


“I’m feeling this is going to be the recurring theme,” he countered with a humourless smirk, “you not being able to explain anything.”

  
  
  


Billy restrained the urge to roll his eyes and moved his head from side to side, mentally debating on his next course of actions. Actions did speak louder than words, he thought to himself, lips pursed. His gaze raked the room before stopping behind Rogers’ shoulder, on a familiar shield that must have been dropped in a hurry and propped against the couch’s armrest. Billy found himself smiling, almost giddy as his fingers twitched to his side. None of them seemed to notice the object of his concentration, staring at him in confusion and weariness. Billy swallowed a giggle at the oblivious Avengers and gave a small flick of his fingers, his smile widening when the shield rose in the air, seemingly weightless. He almost expected his head to split in two at the small manipulation, shoulders sagging in relief when the pounding didn’t start anew.

  
  


“Nice,” he muttered to himself, before he cleared his throat and met Rogers’ gaze, “Hey, Captain; how much are you exactly attached to your shield?”

  
  


Rogers squinted at him, shaking his head. “What does that have to-”

  
  


Billy didn’t leave him the time to reply as he beckoned the shield to him with a swift flick of his hand, smirking when it rushed toward him without lagging. Surely hearing the whoosh-ing sound that any object made when moving in extremely high velocity, both Wanda and Steve turned around, eyes wide-opened when noticing the shield coming straight toward them. Wanda threw a hand up, ready to deflect the object, while Rogers jumped out of his chair, standing in front of her with an arm covering his face.

  
  


Billy’s smirk widened as the shield disappeared in a flash of blue, an inch away from Roger’s face. Blue sparkles rained down on them, Wanda trying to collect a few in her hands with a bewildered expression on her face. Rogers blinked and let his arm fall back, panting when he turned to stare at Billy. The latter flashed him a sheepish grin, turning to contain his excitement and slight amusement. Much to his surprise, Barton hadn’t moved from his stool throughout his small – dramatic – demonstration of his power. Throwing a look over his shoulder, he noticed the archer looking at him with a blank stare. Billy knew he had his attention, though.

  
  


_**Getitbackgetitbackgetitback-**_ Billy pictured the words in his mind, inwardly repeating the same mantra until he felt the tips of his fingers tingle. Tilting his head to the side, he took a couple of steps back.

  
  


Billy jerked his head toward Barton, both eyebrows arched. “I’d duck, if I were you.”

 

  
Barton barely had the time to cock an eyebrow at him in question before a small portal opened behind him. Billy caught sight of his eyes widening before he dived under the counter, avoiding the shield zooming out of the breach. Billy gently pushed Wanda back, watching as it flew by them in a gush of wind and landed into Rogers' awaiting hand. The latter found himself knocked back, wide-eyed and Billy tried not to look too smug about it. He heard Wanda's breathy laugh and turned to shot her a small smile. Her smile widened when her eyes met his, hers shining with wonder.

  
  


“How _the hell_ did you do that?”

  
  


Billy turned back around, cocking an eyebrow when seeing Steve's incredulous expression. “Told you. It's a kind of an habit of mine.”

  
  


“An habit?” Wanda echoed.

  
  


“Yeah,” Billy shrugged, shooting her a sheepish smile. “Well, that's one word for it.”

  
  


* * *

 

 

Turned out the right words for it were ' _mutant powers'._ As she watched Dr Cho adjust a cuff around Billy's arm, Wanda recalled his confusion mirroring theirs. From the corner of her eye, she had seen Clint and Steve exchange a dubious look before mumbling among themselves, much to Wanda's irritation. She had loudly cleared her throat, smirking when the sound had startled Steve. She had ignored Clint's scowl and pointedly turned her attention back to Billy, the latter watching the exchange with furrowed brows. Steve had blinked at her before giving into his fists and crossing his arms against his chest. Wanda had to restrain herself from rolling her eyes at the non-nonsense expression he had sported.

  
  


 

“What do you mean by _'mutant powers_ '?” Steve had asked.

  
  


 

Billy had blinked at him and turned his gaze to Wanda, and then to Clint before staring back at Steve. He cocked his head to the side. “Y'know, mutant powers. Generally start showing up during puberty. Most of the population hates us because of it, even though there's nothing we can do it about it 'cause it's, like, ingraned in our DNA. Literally.”

  
  


Had she not been confused herself, Wanda probably would've laughed at the bewildred expressions plastered on Clint's and Steve's faces. Billy had shrugged helplessly when Wanda had mouted _'what'_ before taking in all of their faces. He had blinked, straightened up and his eyes had widened, a metaphorical bulb lighting up above his head.

  
  


“Or maybe you _don't_ know,” Billy had muttered, his eyes darting from one person to the other and causing all of them to squirm in discomfort. His gaze had lingered on her, his eyes narrowing. “But then how did you-” he had interrupted himself, shaking his head, “never mind. What about the X gene? The X-Men? Charles Xavier?”

 

“Those sound like made-up words,” Clint had mumbled.

  
  


_Blink._ Billy had then growed, his head thrown back. “Great. Fantastic. Amaze- _fucking-_ balls.”

  
  


Clint had snorted at that, muffling his laughter wih a hand when met with Steve's unimpressed stare. Clearing his throat, Clint had turned to her and mouthed ' _amaze-fucking-balls'._ Wanda had replied with a shrug, barely containing her own amusement. Obviously annoyed with both of them, Steve had suggested that they brought a still rambling Billy to the medbay while waiting for Dr Cho.

  
  


Which brought her back to now, standing outside of the medbay while said doctor frowned at the chart in her hands. Sitting on a colt, Billy mindlessly swung his legs while scratching the back of his neck with his free hand. He had abandoned in his cape and suit for medical scrubs. His gaze met hers through the glassed-wall and, with a crooked smile, he gave her a small wave. With a chuckle, Wanda waved back, her smile mirroring his.

  
  


  
  


“How is he doin'?”

  
  


  
  


Wanda's head snapped to the side at the sound of Steve's voice, the latter coming to stand beside her with his hands stuffed in his pocket. She sighed and gave a small shrug. “I didn't get any official update from Helen,” she jerked her head toward Billy, the boy answering whatever question Helen had asked him, “but he seems to be doing alright.”

  
  


Steve hummed, scratching his jawk. “Do you think he's telling the truth?” Wanda almost laughed as he asked the question in a quiet voice, as if Billy could hear him through the closed door. She didn't laugh, though. Instead, she cocked an eyebrow at him. “I mean, can you _sense_ if he's telling the truth?”  
  


“I try not to make an habit of snooping around people's heads without their authorization,” Wanda said, both of her eyebrows up. Steve shot her a chastisied smile and she nudged him in the ribs with her elbow, a teasing light in her eyes. “Not anymore, I mean.”

  
  


Steve gave a small scoff at that and a few chuckles escaped Wanda's lips. Her smile slowly diminished as she stared back at Billy paling at the sight of a needle. She briefly remembered hurtling into a wall when slipping into his mind earlier and wondered if she could reach him through the glass, now that he was awake. Wanda felt a small jab against her ribs and looked up to see Steve frowning down, his eyes questioning. She sighed.

  
  


“I could not get into his head before. When I tried to wake him. It was like there was this bareer stopping any unwelcome presence to come in.”

  
  


Wanda didn't mention that she had been taken aback by it, or the way she could easily slid into people's heads without breaking a sweat. Looking back at Steve, she didn't think she needed to.

  
  


 

“Do you think it was intentional?” Steve asked, his head cocked to the side. “Do you think he's hiding somethin' from us?”

  
  


“I think he's protecting himself,” Wanda answered, thinking of how he seemed to think over each of his words, stopping midsentence before completely changing subject. “Doesn't mean he registers as a major threat.”

  
  


“He knows us, though,” Steve muttered, more talking to himself than to her, “why would he needs to protect himself from us?”

  
  


“He knows a version of us,” Wanda corrected, “we haven't given him any reason to trust us yet. And maybe he isn't the only one he's protecting.”

  
  


Steve gave another noncommital hum, perking up when Dr Cho looked in their direction. She gave a small nod and it was apparently all Steve nedded for him to push the door opened andw step in the medbay. Wanda, close on his heels, went to stand by Billy while Steve stopped in front of Helen, his arms crossed against his chest.

  
  


“How is he?”

  
  


Billy glowered at Steve. “ _He_ is right here, y'know, and he can talk for himself.”

  
  


Helen threw him a look, sm nering a smile as she turned back to Steve, hugging his medical chart to her chest. “Got a bruised shoulder from his rough landing into this universe, but otherwise, he's fine. We'll have to wait for his blood test results to know more.”

 

“I could have told them that myself,” he mumbled.

  
  


Snorting, Wanda rubbed his shoulder, her hand freezing when he felt him tense under her touch. The tension was gone as quickly as it had come, barely leaving Wanda the time to wonder if she was being too familiar with him. A voice in the back of her head whispered that she obviously was, and yet she couldn't find the reason why. A second voice that sounded awfully like Pietro let out a short laugh and Wanda could perfectly imagine him shaking his head at her. _Of course you can't,_ said the voice, mocking.

  
  


Wanda clenched her jaw and blinked away tears. She almost jumped when she felt a hand cover hers. Looking down, she met Billy's gaze – a gaze that held sympathy and way too much knowledge - and forced a small smile. Billy returned the gesture, his more genuine, and gave her hand a squeeze before taking it away. Slightly taken aback by the familiarity of the gesture, Wanda let her hand slid from his shoulder and tuned back into Steve's and Helen's conversation.

  
  


“-In the meantime, you'll have to watch over him, so he doesn't overexhort himself,” Helen explained while Steve nodded, his lips pursed and eyes fixed on Billy.

  
  


“Again,” Billy rolled his eyes, rubbing his bad shoulder, “Right here. Don't need a babysitter.”

  
  


Plastering a fake smile on, Helen turned to Billy. “I've worked with my fair number of vigilantes and wannabe heroes to know that they do, as a matter of fact, need a babysitter. Wouldn't survive long without them.”

  
  


Chastisied, Billy looked down at his feet while mumbling under his breath, much to the others' amusement. Meeting Steve's eyes, Wanda restrained the urge to suggest that, perhaps, Steve wasn't the right choice seeing as he had a knack for getting himself in dangerous situations. Judging from the small glare Steve back, Wanda's message came across without her having to speak. Snorting, she tucked her hair behind her ears and turned to Billy, the latter watching the exchange with curiosity.

  
  


“Would he be alright to shower on his own?” Wanda asked.

  
  


“I don't see why not, as long as he got somethin' to lean on,” Helen answered with a shrug. Then, wrinkling her nose, she leaned in added in a conspirational whisper. “It'd be much needed too.”

  
  


“Gee, thanks. Really feelin' the love over here,” Billy muttered.

  
  


  
  


Helen winked at him, stepping forward as he slowly slid from the colt. Steve and Wanda watched as she, acting like a cruch, leaded him toward the bathroom. Steve waited until they were both out of sight to turn toward her.

  
  


“The others should be back soon, I'll give them a quick debrrief on what's been going on. Think you can keep an eye on him while I'm gone?”

  
  


Taking a deep breath, Wanda nodded. “I'll keep both of them on him. Just to be sure.”

  
  


With a small smile, Steve gave her arm a small squeeze before stepping out of the medbay, phone already in hand. Wanda sighed, wracking both hands through her hair. He'd need clean clothes once out of the bathroom. Wanda nodded to herself, humming as she plucked and carefully folded his disgarded suit.

  
  


 


	4. son(s) of a witch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enter the Scarlet Witch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't finished - not even began - writing chapter five, but yet here I am, posting this ! I'm afraid you'll have to wait quite a bit before the next chapter. Hopefully, this will do for now.

Tommy came to an abrupt stop a couple blocks away from his mother's apartment building. He shot a small smile to the old woman that had startled at his sudden appearance, catching her grocery bag before it could hit the ground. He nodded at her stuttered thanks and, shoving his hands in his pockets, casually crossed the street as if nothing had happened. Blowing a breath, Tommy – not so – nonchalantly strolled toward the stoned building, fingers clenching around his phone. Maybe he should've explained everything on the phone. It would have saved Tommy time. They would've been able to find a solution quicker. His hands wouldn't have been as sweaty as they were right.

 

Grimacing at the sensation, Tommy took his hands out of his pockets and wiped them on his jeans. He shook his head, ran his fingers through his hair and blew a long breath. Time stretched thin before his eyes – a bird's flight slowing down, a girl comically falling from her bike in slow motion, raindrops freezing above his head. Tommy blinked, flinching when drops of water fell on his head. He grimaced at the girl's loud wailing, the latter clutching her knee against her chest. He barely avoided the bird as it flew his way. Tommy took a deep breath and, after making sure he wouldn't attract any unwanted attention, flashed to the frontdoor.

 

Tommy went to press the buzzer when the door was pushed back open. It was only an inch, but he noticed. It was enough to tell him that he was expected. _Witches,_ he bitterly thought with a snort. Pushing it back with two fingers, Tommy stepped into the building and let the door slam behind him. While he could smell Wanda's perfume float in the staircase, there was no sight of her anywhere. Like any respectable dumb girl in a horror movie, Tommy opened his mouth to call for her when the door facing the staircase opened.

  
  


 

 

Drumming his fingers against the railing, Tommy narrowed his eyes at it. “And the freaky keeps getting freakier,” he muttered. “Miss Agatha?” he called, louder, “You there?”

  
  


“Hello, Thomas.”

  
  


 

Jumping with a yelp, Tommy turned around to find the older woman staring at him in what he thought was amusement. It could be contempt. A hand pressed against his racing heart, Tommy cleared his throat and straightened up. He had learned to avoid looking into her eyes. It didn't mean he didn't squirm under her inquisitive stares, her eyes annoyingly all-knowing. Tommy tried for a smile, only to grimace when the corner of her wrinkled lips rose up. As if mocking him.

  
  


 

 

“Your mother didn't say you'd be passing by,” Agatha said, her head cocked to the side.

  
  


Tommy tried not to flinch at the 'm' word and forced himself to smile back. “I just sprung that on her, this morning. Kind of a surprise.”

  
  


 

 

Agatha hummed and Tommy's grimace was back. Biting the inside of his cheek, he began rocking back and forth on his heels as the silence – and staring – stretched on. The witch didn't seem bothered by it. Lucky her. Swallowing a groan, Tommy looked up the flight of stairs, as if the mere thought of Wanda would make her appear out of thin air. He wondered if he could conjure her up with a spell. If he wished and believed – _I do believe in the Scarlet Witch, I do ! I do_ – hard enough, she'd appear and save him.

  
  


 

 

“And where's young William?” Agatha asked, her raspy voice grating him.

  
  


_No such luck._ Tommy didn't try for a smile as he replied with a simple “Occupied.”

  
  


“Tommy?”

  
  


 

 

Tommy almost wept at the angelic sound that was Wanda's voice. He also almost gave himself whiplash when turning his head upwards. Wanda was leaning over the railing, her eyebrows furrowed and eyes narrowed, as if making sure it was really him. A small smile appeared on her face when Tommy tapped two fingers to his temple in greeting. Not bothering with a farewell, Tommy sped up the stairs to meet her. He wasn't sure if the disapproving stare Wanda gave him was for speeding away from the old witch or the careless use of his power. He shot her a sheepish grin and lifted a shoulder.

  
  


 

 

“Hey,” Tommy said, needlessly breathless.

  
  


 

Wanda shook her head at him and poked his cheek with a finger, smiling when he slapped her hand away. Leaning against the railing, Wanda tucked her hair behind her ears and waggled her fingers in a small wave.

  
  


 

“I'll be down later, Agatha.”

  
  


  
  


Much to Tommy's annoyance, Agatha hummed again and slowly made her way toward her apartment, closing the door with a flick of her fingers. Tommy waited a beat and turned to meet Wanda's eyes, making a show of shuddering. Her lips pursed, as if to contain a laugh, Wanda flicked his ear before lacing her arm through his and dragging him into her apartment. She wasn't as weary as he was with touch, Tommy noted to himself and was briefly reminded of Billy resting an elbow on his shoulder whenever they'd stood next to each other. The easy way Billy'd swing an arm around his shoulders. The hugs Tommy'd suffered through, because not only did he have a mystical twin brother but it turned out his mystical twin brother was a CareBear.

  
  


Tommy wasn't used to it. Didn't mean he hated it. It made him feel like he belonged somewhere. That was why he allowed Wanda to drag him yhrough her messy living room and into her kitchen. He wrapped his hands around the cup of hot tea she slid his way.

  
  


 

“Are you hungry?” Wanda inquired, turning back to the stove, “I know that Pietro was always hungry after running,” she rambled while filling a plate with turkey sausages and scrambled eggs.

  
  


“Famished,” Tommy shot back, slapping the table. “Thanks,” he accepted the plate and cutlery handed to him, waiting for Wanda to be sitting and served to dig in.

  
  


 

They ate in silence for a few minutes, sounds of chewing and slurping filling the kitchen. Tommy could see the furtive glances Wanda threw his way, every now and then. She'd smile when he caught her eye before returning to her food.

  
  


 

“So,” Tommy's head snapped up at the sound of Wanda's voice, the latter poking at the last of her eggs, “It's been a while since I've seen you.”

  
  


 

Tommy swallowed the urge to snort and filled his mouth with food, buying time as he thought. It had been a while since Tommy had willingly contacted her. He remembered Wanda calling and waking him late in the night, when he had came back from – wherever Tommy had been teleported to after his disaster of a fight against Fake Patriot. Wanda had sounded worried, more than necessary, when asking if he was alright. Tommy had been taken aback by the question, not completely awake, and croaked out a positive answer. Tommy hadn't been able to stop the smile that stretched his lips at her sigh of relief. Tommy hadn't been able to fall asleep after hanging up, his stomach in knots and head full of thoughts he couldn't make sense of.

 

 

 

Swallowing with a loud gulp, Tommy offered a small shrug. “A'right. Could be worse.”

  
  


A small smile appeared on Wanda's face. “Eloquent, as ever,” she teased as she got up and cleaned the table.

  
  


“Clearly, it runs in the family,” Tommy retorted, taking his plate to the sink before she could reach for it. Wanda wrinkled her nose at him, swatting his arm with a dish towel. “Actually, I need to talk to you about something. I need your _help_ with something.”

  
  


Wanda frowned at him, draping the rag over her shoulder and leaning her hip against the counter. “Is it about Billy?”

  
  


 

 

Wanda didn't seem upset about the abrupt change of subject. If anything, she seemed to have expected it. His lips pursed, Tommy avoided her piercing gaze and gave a small nod. He vaguely remembered the Avengers telling them about how the _Scarlet Witch_ had gone berserk when losing her children, and braced himself. Tommy didn't jump when feeling Wanda's fingers around his wrist, giving it a light squeeze. He looked down at her and, instead of seeing blazing red eyes, Tommy was met with brown eyes, wide with concern and anticipation. Tommy blinked at her and swallowed his spit, hoping Wanda wouldn't hear the loud gulp – even though she was too close to not have heard it.

  
  


 

 

“He disappeared.”

  
  


Wanda blinked at him, her brow furrowed in confusion. “What do you mean Billy ' _disappeared'?”_

  
  


“In the most literal sense of the word. Teddy woke up this morning and he was just,” Tommy lifted a shoulder, his expression mirroring Wanda's, “ _gone._ Except, his stuff was still here, like his phone, wallet and other sh-stuff. Even his parents didn't know where he was.”

 

 

Wanda pursed her lips, tilting her head to the side. “So, he didn't leave,” she mused at loud. “Was he working on some kind of spell that could have backfired?”

  
  


Once again, Tommy shrugged. “Dunno, you'd have to ask Teddy. Then again, Billy's stupid enough to do something like that witthout telling anyone. Or,” Tommy gritted his teeth, looking away from Wanda, “he didn't have anything to do with it and someone else cast a spell or something.”

  
  


Clenching her jaw, Wanda let go of his wrist and crossed her arms against her chest. “No one would dare.”

  
  


 

 

 _There she was,_ Tommy thought to himself, _the woman who destroyed millions of lives with three words._ It was strangely comforting. Tommy hummed, the corner of his mouth tilted up in a half-smirk. The smirk widened when Wanda met his eyes and a look of understanding was shared between the two. After all, Tommy had a piece of the devil inside of him. He wouldn't mind a little destruction if it'd bring back Billy. Wanda blinked and the small moment came to an end. She blew a long breath and ran her fingers through her hair, as if composing herself.

  
  


 

 

“I'd have to check Billy's room,” Wanda sighed, “Magic leaves a trail. I'll be able to see if someone, other than Billy, intervened,” she clarified when Tommy cocked an eyebrow at her. “We could ask Agatha for help.”

  
  


 

 

Tommy didn't bother holding in his groan and, without warning, scooped Wanda in his arms before he sped off. He didn't stop running until they were in front of the Kaplans' front door. Wanda, to her benefit, didn't show any sigh of discomfort when he put her down. Tommy nonchanlantly shrugged when she glared at him, smoothing down her hair.

  
  


 

 

“Why would we do that?”

  
  


“She's a witch, Tommy,” Wanda responded, her tone indicating that it was the most obvious thing ever. “A powerful one at that. We might need her.”

  
  


 

 

Tommy rolled his eyes at that, ruffling through his pocket until finding his set of keys. Keeping one hand in his pocket, Tommy used the other one to knock against the door. He waited an entire minute before taking the keys out and unlocking it. The apartment was seemingly empty, the faint scent of essent lingering in the air.

  
  


 

 

“H'lo?” Tommy called out, stretching out the 'o' as he stepped fully into the apartment, Wanda on his heels.

  
  


 

 

Without breaking his stride toward Billy's bedroom, Tommy grabbed an apple from the fruit basket and threw it from hand to hand. He stopped in front of the closed door, staring at the handle for longer than he should've. Wanda's hand reaching for it broke him out of his transe and, within a blink, Tommy turned the handle and pushed the door open. Tommy flashed into the room, eager to put some distance between the two. Setting the apple on Billy's desk, Tommy spun on his heels and took a quick inventory of the room.

  
  


 

 

“Does anything look out of place?”

  
  


Tommy hummed, his eyes narrowed at the bookcase. “Nah, it's always this messy,” he smiled at the sound of Wanda's snort. He turned to her and cocked an eyebrow, “should I be looking for something in particular?”

  
  


“Spellbooks, drawings of runes, anything to shouldn't be here,” Wanda answered, shuffling through the papers on Billy's desk, “You'll find it when you see it.”

  
  


“ 'Cuz that doesn't sound cryptic at all,” Tommy muttered to himself.

  
  


 

With a sigh, Tommy let his fingers brush against the books' spines, disregarding every comic and focusing on the battered hardcovers. Tommy quickly skimmed through them, carelessly eardoging pages that caught his attention. Billy didn't own many spellbooks, much to Tommy's dismay - the advantage of being able to alter reality with only words. Tommy knew that Billy had learned to control – _control_ being an understatement – his powers with the help of Teddy's mother's selfcare books and preferred to create his own spells, even though they tended to backfire.

  
  


Tommy looked up from his speed-reading, watching as Wanda waggled her fingers over Billy's bed, her brow furrowed in concentration and her eyes shining red. Tommy swallowed the urge to make a crude remark about sensing more than Billy's energy and gave a soft clear of throat.

  
  


  
  


“Anything?” Tommy asked when Wanda looked up at him.

  
  


Shaking her head, Wanda waved a hand, red tendrils of magic wrapping itself around her hand before it disappeared. “Nothing that could indicated that someone else beside Billy used magic in here.”

  
  


Clenching his jaw, Tommy slammed the book shut and threw on the bed. “Great,” he hissed through gritted teeth.

  
  


 

Cringing at the small outburst, Tommy blew a breath through his nose and ran fingers through his hair. Tommy was aware of the sudden silence and of Wanda's eyes on him. He didn't have to look up to know that she was staring at him. Tommy had grown used to it during the small amount of time they had spent together. Wanda often found herself unable to tear her eyes from either him or Billy, as if she was trying to commit every detail to memory. Just in case. Usually, Tommy wouldn't have mind it. His skin prickled under her eyes, his head buzzing. Teddy could almost feel her looking through his mind, sorting his thoughts and using them against him. The feeling was almost similar to the one he had felt when Emma had influenced him, during the battle opposing them to the X-Men and Avengers. Except this time, there was no voice except his own echoing in his head.

  
  


 

“We'll found him,” Wanda's soft voice spoke up. “I know you're worried-”

  
  


“I'm not,” Tommy interrupted, rubbing his mouth with the back of his hand.

  
  


 

Tommy _wasn't_ worried. He was used to Billy's idiocy by now, and couldn't waste energy worrying. That didn't mean Tommy didn't waste energy feeling useless. Wanda didn't say anything for a moment. Almost a minute had passed – Tommy counted – before Wanda spoke up again.

  
  


 

“It'd be fine if you were. Worried, I mean. There's nothing wrong with worrying.”

  
  


 

Tommy felt like disagreeing like a petulant child, but the growing lump in his throat stopped him from doing so. Instead, Tommy cleared his throat and reached for another book. From the corner of his eye, he could see tendrils of magic moving across the room, its movements resembling the stirring of waves that usually came before a storm.

  
  


 

* * *

 

  
  


_Still got nothing._

  
  


His jaw clenched, Teddy resised the urge to slam his phone onto the table after rereading Kate's words. Instead, he shoved the device in his bag and tore into his now-cold burg-er. From the booth Teddy was sitting in, he could see Andy and Liam forcefully hammering on a Pac-Man machine. Teddy winced at that.

  
  


 

“Andy!” More than one head turned to him at the call, but Teddy focused on the younger Kaplan, “Quit it. Both of you,” his stare dragged from Andy to Liam.

  
  


  
  


Though grumbling, they both stopped and moved on to another game, blissfully unaware. Billy would've groan at the lack of effort it had taken for them to listen to Teddy, playfully adding to that it probably had to do with his regal heritage. Playing along, Teddy would've retort that it just had to do with the fact that he was more likeable than Billy, to everyone, including his brothers. His retort would've probably earned him a dramatic gasp and soggy fries thrown his way. Leaning back in the booth, Teddy let out a sigh and tried not to focus on the empty spot beside him as he shoved food in his mouth.

  
  


Wiping greasy hands on his jeans, Teddy barely flinched at the sudden gush of wind that sent napkins and salt packets fly from their table. Teddy blinked and found Tommy sitting in front of him, David by his side. While the former looked unbothered, the latter looked a bit green on the edges. With a grimace of sympathy, Teddy slid his glass of water his way, which David eagerly gulped. Without looking at him, Tommy gave his back a slap.

  
  


  
  


“You're not supposed to be here,” Teddy said, looking behind him to ensure that neither Kaplans had noticed the new arrivals before he turned back to Tommy, “I told them you were spending the day with Billy. They'll ask questions if they see you and not him.”

  
  


 

 

Tommy waved a hand, wrinkling his nose. “Untwist your panties, Altman, I'll be gone before they notice me. Are you going to finish that?” he pointed to his plate.

  
  


 

 

With a sigh, Teddy pushed the food his way and crossed his arms against the table. He startled when David slammed an empty glass against the hard wood, refusing the fries Tommy offered him with a grimace as he filled the glass again. Teddy waited for him to take a few gulps.

  
  


 

“Anything?”

  
  


 

Tommy stopped chewing, his cheeks full while David looked down at his glass, finger tracing the rim. Teddy nibbled on his bottom lip and gave a small nod. He didn't need them to speak up to know they didn't have jackshit. He forced down his frustration and focused on the napkin in front of him, tearing it into pieces. Teddy didn't have to look up to imagine the looks Tommy and David were exchanging right now.

  
  


 

 

“Isn't no news good news?” David asked with a small shrug, the teasing in his voice falling flat.

  
  


 

Restraining the urge to roll his eyes, Teddy crossed his arms against his chest. “Not in this case, no.”

  
  


 

“I've got news,” Tommy announced, forcefully swallowing the food in the mouth when David's and Teddy's heads turned toward him. He cleared his throat and swiped David's – his – glass. “They're not necessarily good, or bad. Or helpful when I think about it.”

  
  


 

Teddy rolled his eyes and snapped his fingers in front of Tommy's face. “The point. Get to it.”

  
  


 

 

Slapping his hand away, Tommy leaned back in his seat, crossing a leg over the other and placing both of his hands on his stomach in mock nonchalance. He blew a raspberry and tilted his head to the side, as if contemplating sharing whatever information he had. Teddy kicked his shin, smirking when Tommy jolted with a yelp. Undeterred by his glare, Teddy cocked an inquiring eyebrow.

  
  


 

 

“Not even allowed to collect my thoughts, I hate this fucking team,” Tommy mumbled to himself, scooting closer to David when Teddy went to kick his shin a second time. “A'right, cool it! Wanda didn't detect any sign of offensive magic, nor magic that didn't belong to Billy's.”

  
  


 

“Meaning?” Teddy asked, his brow furrowed.

  
  


 

Tommy let out a long-suffering sigh. “Meaning he wasn't abducted by aliens or some crazy wizard or some weird shit like that.”

  
  


 

“Still doesn't explain how he disappeared,” David, ever the smart one, pointed out.

  
  


 

 

Teddy tilted his head toward him, an eyebrow cocked at Tommy. The latter threw his hands up in frustration.

  
  


 

 

“Who the fuck knows?! Didn't he bring that weird thing from another universe when trying to look for your mother?"

  
  
  


Teddy frowned at him, leaning back in the booth. “Soooo,” he stretched the monosyllable word, his eyes moving from Tommy to David, “What? You think one of his spells backfired?”

  
  


Tommy shrugged, much to Teddy's aggravation. Tommy didn't notice, his eyes focused on something over Teddy's shoulder. “Wouldn't surprise me,” he muttered, scooping the remaining fries of Teddy's plates and putting them in his pocket. He ignored both of their disgusted expressions, and with a cheeky smirk, threw up a peace sign. “Gotta blast, suckers.”

  
  


 

 

Teddy barely had the time to protest before Tommy disappeared in a gush of wind. Letting out a sigh, Teddy crossed his arms over the table and let his head fall on them. He looked up when feeling fingers running through his hair, cocking an eyebrow when met with David's wide-eyed expression. David withdrew his hand and, clearing his throat, gestured to Teddy's hair.

  
  


 

 

“You, uh, got somethin'-”

  
  


 

 

Instead of running his fingers through his hair, Teddy began vigorously shaking his head and watched as pieces of napkin fell out of it. Meeting David's exasperated eyes, Teddy shot him a sheepish smile and dusted off his shoulders.

  
  


 

 

“I hate when he does that.”

  
  


David snorted, playing with a salt packet. “At least, he didn't take you along for the ride,” he shuddered, earning a small chuckle from Teddy. “You okay?” David winced as soon as the words left his mouth, “shitty question, I know.”

  
  


“Well, it's been a shitty day, so far,” Teddy retorted, pulling at his brow piercing. “I don't know. I just feel like we could be doing more. Like _I_ should be doing more.”

  
  


“You're doing enough,” David said, and Teddy couldn't help but scoff at that. “I'm serious, man! Look, I know I just got here and might be talking out of my ass. From what I've seen, I know I'm not. Keeping a cool head, watching over his brothers,” David gave a nonchalant shrug, “I think you're doing good. So would Billy.”

  
  


  
  


Teddy narrowed his eyes at David, the latter responding with a smile. With a snort, Teddy threw a packet of salt at his face, the corner of his mouth raising in a half-smile when David deflected it with a swat of his hand. Somewhere, between David kissing him and them banishing Mother to whatever hell she had came from, a friendship had bloomed between the two. David's lingering glances had lessened and his smiles were more genuine whenever they'd spend time together.

  
  


Not that they had spent that much time together. Tommy had, for some reason, decided that David had been his friend first and therefore, should spend more time with him. _Best friend trumps one-sided-unattainable crush, sorry Altman,_ Tommy had said, dragging David behind him. Instead of wincing like Teddy had expected him to, David had turned to him and rolled his eyes, a small smile tugging at his lips as he let himself be led away.

  
  


 

 

“Teddy!” Andy came running toward their booth, his shout snapping Teddy out of his thoughts. He caught Andy with one arm, stopping him from colliding into the table. “You said you'd be playing against me at _Mario Bros._!” his gaze darted to David before it moved back to Teddy.

  
  


  
  


Teddy shot him a smile. “I'll be there in a sec'! Mind if David joins us?”

  
  


 

Andy lifted a shrug. “Sure, whatever, I don't care.”

 

 

 

Teddy barely had the time to tell him off before he went back running toward Liam and his group of friends. His smile deflating, Teddy watched as the younger boy went back to his brother's side, blissfully unaware. Drumming his fingers against the back of his seat, Teddy plastered a small smile on his face when Liam quickly turned toward him, the move causing his glasses to slide from his eyes.

  
  


“How am I supposed to tell them about Billy?” Teddy muttered, not tearing his eyes from them.  
  


  
  


“It won't get to that,” David reassured, his voice so sure that Teddy let himself be convinced. At least, for a moment. “Besides,” David added, his tone lighter, “I'm a certified genius. If anyone can get us out of this mess, it's me.”

  
  


Teddy turned around, a smirk playing at his lips. “Okay, genius guy; ready to get lose to a bunch of ten-year-olds?”

  
  


 

David's answering grin was sharp and his eyes shining with mischief, the expression all too familiar. For a minute, Teddy wondered if he should be worried about all the time David had been spending with Tommy.

  
  


 

“I was born ready.”

 

 

 


	5. I got 99 regrets and being born was one

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Enter the Avengers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter was a bitch to write : i love some parts and really hate others, but here you go, here it is ! (can you tell i'm sleep-deprived).
> 
> unbetaed

 

Wanda swallowed an umptenth groan, her eyes rolling on their own accord. She heard a sigh and looked down to see Natasha sitting with her legs crossed at the foot of the couch, a head leaning on a closed fist as she observed the current – never ending – back and forth between Steve and Sam. The argument had started as soon as the small team composed of Sam, Rhodey, Vision and Natasha had came back from their mission and been informed – by the ever so helpful Clint - that a powered teenager from another dimension had appeared in the kitchen.

.

Rhodey had stared at them for an entire minute before he had blinked and went up to his room without a word. Clint had perched himself on the back of the couch, nonchalant as if his words had no effect whatsoever – if only. Vision only blinked, humming softly to himself. Steve had braced himself and, to his credit, had not flinched that bad when being faced with both Sam's and Natasha's incredulous stares. Wanda didn't remember how Natasha had ended up sitting on the floor, staring up at Steve and Sam while they bickered. She had stopped paying attention to the discussion moments ago. Still, it didn't stop Wanda from rolling her eyes in synch with Natasha whenever Clint'd intervene to either agree with Sam or offer his unwanted opinion/advise.

  
  


_The_ fucking _Avengers, ladies and gentlemen._

  
  


Wanda snorted at the thought, shaking her head as she leaned back against the wall. The soft sound seemed to attract Natasha's attention, the latter looking back at her with a knowing smirk stretching her lips.

  
  


“He's just a kid!” Steve's irritated retort snapped Wanda out of her thoughts, and her jaw clenched at the oh so familiar words. She kept quiet, her face purposely blank when all fell silence for a minute and gazes turned to her. Fortunately for her, Steve quickly regained his composure and cleared his throat, “what do you expect me to do? Kick him out on the street?”

  
  


“Worked for me,” Clint muttered, a knee pulled to his chest while his other leg was stretched the entire length of the couch.

  
  


Wanda could've very well push him off with a flick of her fingers for her own amusement. But she didn't. Steve's glare and Natasha's deadpan expression – clearly telling him that no, it did _not_ work out for him – were enough to shut him up. With a sigh, Natasha looked up at Steve, the latter meeting her eyes with a hint of hope in his. At least, that was what Wanda thought it was.

  
  


“We're not saying we have to kick him out. We're _not_ ,” she repeated louder, jabbing a finger toward Clint, then pointing it to Sam and Steve before either could protest, “but from what you guys told us, I'm pretty sure he's not 'just a kid'. Should we trust him so easily?”

  
  


“Thank _you ,_ Natasha!” Sam nodded, “Critical thinking, people. I mean, did you even proceed to a background check?

  
  


Steve pinched the bridge of his nose. “We didn't exactly got the time to--”

  
  


“There seems to be nonexistant records of a Billy Kaplan,” Vision interrupted, suddenly standing to Wanda's left.

  
  


Wanda startled, glaring at Clint when hearing his snort. Blowing out a breath, she closed her eyes and placed a hand on her chest, trying to steady her racing heart. When opening back her eyes, she was met with Vision's sheepish and apologeptic expression. With a small smile, she squeezed his elbow in reassurance. Wanda swivelled her head back toward the confrontation at the sound of Sam's loud scoff.

  
  


“That's awfully convenient,” he crossed his arms against his chest and cocked an eyebrow, “dude appears out of nowhere, claims to come from another Earth and you believe him?”

  
  


“In Steve's defense, that's the level of weird we deal with every day,” Natasha intervened, her head tilted to the side.”

  
  


Thumbs pressed against his temple, Steve rolled his eyes at them. “I never said I _trusted_ him. I just-” he let his arms to his side with a sigh, lifting a shoulder in a shrug, “I don't know. Call it a gut feeling, call it stupidty or whatever you want, but I don't think he's lying.”

  
  


Wanda watched as Sam and Natasha exchanged a quick glance, both seemingly coming to agreement that Steve's actions were mostly a result of his stupidity. Natasha cocked an eyebrow at him and gave a small shrug, causing Sam to drop his head back and let out an aggravated groan. Rolling his neck, he met Steve's eyes and rolled his eyes at the earnest expression on his face. Wanda bit the inside of her cheek to contain a smile. Once again, as if reading her thoughts, Natasha turned to her and flashed her a knowing smirk, eyebrows waggling.

  
  


“What do _you_ think?” Natasha asked her, her chin propped on her fist.

  
  


Her apparent nonchalance irked her and Wanda didn't bother to hide her eyeroll, much to the former's amusement. She found herself gaping when all gazes turned to her and had to stop herself from looking to her left, where Vision was seemingly in the process of drilling a hole in her head. She ignored Clint's knowing gaze, tried to not drown in Steve's hopeful eyes and met Sam's stare. Pushing back her shoulders, Wanda cleared her throat and crossed her arms against her chest, mirroring Sam's stance.

  
  


“I think he needs help”, Wanda answered with a shrug. Ignoring Sam's muttered ' _of course you do',_ she cocked an eyebrow and continued, “Besides, if he turns out to be a threat, he's already in custody. It's safer for everyone if he stays here.”

  
  


Wanda didn't have to go through their minds to know she had won that particular argument. Natasha's proud smirk. Steve's resolute gaze and poorly hidden grin. Vision's quiet hum of agreement. Clint's silence. Sam's incredulous expression. They were enough. Wanda tilted her head to the side, unnerved as Sam returned her stare. He lasted mere minutes before looking away and meeting Steve's eyes. Sam's shoulders slumped. Steve's grin widened. Wanda found herself mirroring Natasha's smirk.

  
  


_The_ fucking _Avengers, ladies and gentlemen._

 

* * *

 

From what Billy had gathered, after relentlessly asking questions and annoying people to death, he had somehow ended up in the Avengers headquarters. Which, in this unverse, was less of a mansion and more of a compound. Which was understandable since Billy had only met three Avengers so far. Which was kinda weird. Despite the _bizarre_ situation Billy found himsef in, he didn't spend that much pondering about the super-inhabitants of the compound.

  
  


Billy had been alerted to the new arrival by a loud exclamation that echoed around, closely followed by loud shushing, then quieter bickering. Freshly out the shower, Billy barely had the time to scrub his hair and body dry before another person – a nurse, Billy had assumed, judging by her white scrubs – had knocked on the door and informed him that he'd find a clean outfit and that if he needed anything, asking for F.R.I.D.A.Y would suffice. Billy had tried – he really had – not eavesdrop on the Avengers when slipping out and grabbing the duffel bag that had been left in front of the door. Billy had tried not to play attention to the argument, focusing on the content of the bag – grey, plain loose outfits, a few energy bars and a small bottle of water. But, like... they were so fucking loud. Whether they had meant to or not.

  
  


“How do you know he can be trusted-”

  
  


_He's just a kid,_ the mantra ran through Captain America's mind on a loop.

  
  


“I never said I _trusted_ him-”

  
  


_He could be a Hydra plant,_ the Black Widow thought.

  
  


Swallowing the lump, Billy had shaken his head and closed the door – with more force that he had meant – before slipping on the provided clothes. He had munched on a couple of energy bars, downing it with water. The duffel bag slung across his shoulder, Billy had slipped out of the bathroom, ignoring the few people milling around. He had only stopped walking when remembering he didn't know where he was going.

  
  


“F.R.I.D.A.Y?” Billy had called, his voice hesitant. He cocked his head to the side, his brow furrowed, “It is F.R.I.D.A.Y, right?”

  
  


A pause. “ _It is,”_ the A.I had responded, sounding slighlty amused. How could an A.I sound amused? “ _How can I help you, Mr Kaplan?”_

  
  


He'd winced. “Billy,” he had corrected, adjusting the strap of the bag on his shoulder. “D'you know where I can find a library around here or somethin'?”

  
  


Somehow, after following F.R.I.D.A.Y's thorough directions, Billy had ended up in the Avengers' private library, where – according to F.R.I.D.A.Y – Captain Rogers liked to retreat and relax after a mission or a session of sparring. Billy hadn't paid much attention to it – he couldn't spare time and attention to focus on that – and began to rack through the shelves of books. Billy mindlessly grabbed some books off the shelves and dropped them on the small coffee table, letting himself fall in the armchair beside it.

  
  


Ironically, Billy had been skimming through a book on the theory of the multiverse when Wanda walked in, a tablet tugged under her arm and steaming cups in each hands. She shot him a small smile when meeting his gaze.

  
  


  
  


“Hope you like hot chocolate,” Wanda announced, mindful of his books when putting down the two drinks.

  
  


“Who _doesn't_ like hot chocolate?” Billy retorted, leaning forward to grab the mug. He leaned back in the couch, knees drawn to his chest. Taking a small sip, Billy hummed approvingly, “that's some good stuff.”

  
  


Wanda's smile widened as she sat next to him, legs crossed. “Why, thank you,” she knocked her mug against his and brought it to her lips. “How are you feeling?”

  
  


“Cleaner,” Billy closed the book and threw it on an already forming pile, “a bit tired,” he lifted a shoulder in a shrug. Billy cleared his throat and sunk into the couch, his legs stretched out in front of him. “Heard the Earth's Mightiest Heroes are back. Heard they don't like me much, too.”

  
  


Wanda's smile twisted into a grimace at that, her head tilted to the side in silent adknowledgment and her eyes bleeding sympathy.

 

_(Billy could feel pity roll off from her in waves and swallowed the bile that had rosen up his throat)._

 

Wanda took a long gulp of her chocolate, as if buying herself some time to think.

 

_(Billy took this time to close his eyes, strengthen his walls and breathe.)_

  
  


“They don't dislike you-” Wanda started, pushing her hair behind her ear.

  
  


Billy let out a dramatic groan and _(slowly)_ leaned his head back. “Double negation,” he tutted, waggling a finger _(instead of shaking his head),_ “that's a big no-no.”

  
  


Wanda scoffed, slapping his hand away while _(Billy tried to ignore the way his heart clench at the familiarity of the gesture)_ she retorted, “It's not and they don't. I mean, they do – like you, that is,” Wanda frowned, as if confused by her own thoughts. She shook her head and cleared her throat, “They just don't – aren't sure if you can be trusted.”

  
  


Billy hummed, “Understandable. I would't trust any person that randomly appeared in my kitchen. What about you, what'cha think about it? “

  
  


Billy restrained the urge to lean away when she narrowed her eyes at him. “I think that – I don't know what to make of you. Yet.”

  
  


He hummed again, his eyes falling back on the cooling drink in his hands. Billy could heat, but the mere thoughts of using the simplest spell made him want to hurl. He, then, decided to down the rest of his chocolate in a go, hiding a wince when he swallowed.

  
  


“Smart,” Billy croaked, slamming a fist against his chest and clearing his throat, “wise. That's why you're my favourite.” ( _Shit.)_

  
  


Wanda blinked, wide-eyed. “Really?” she asked, her voice small and hesitant.

  
  


( _Double shit._ )

  
  


“I-- I mean, yeah! Duh!” Billy tried not to stutter ( _tried not to falter under her hopeful's gaze),_ raking his fingers through his hair. “On my Earth, you're, like, the most baddass person I know – _of._ That I know _of,”_ he quickly added, hoping she woudn't notice. “How could you _not_ be a favorite?”

  
  


Billy closed his mouth, jaw clenched and lips pursed as he tried to contain his word vomit. Wanda's expression had softened in amusement and something else Billy tried not to dwell on. _Changethesubjectchangethesubject,changethesubject--_

  
  


“Well, you ain't got nothin' on dimensions portals or magic. Nothin' that isn't theortical, I mean.”

  
  


_Subtle,_ Billy thought as Wanda startled next to him, brow furrowed. “Is that something we actually deal with in this another universe?”

  
  


Billy gave a noncommital hum as he put down the empty cup on the table in front of him, hopping to his feet. Maybe being in movement would stop him from saying at loud whatever random thought that crossed his mind. He went through the trouble of picking up the books he had gone through and putting them back on the shelves, observing Wanda from the corner of his eye. She was doing an observation of her own, now hissed onto the back of the couch. Her eyes glowed for a second before she went to take a sip from her cup. Billy restrained the urge to snort.

  
  


“You mentionned something about mutation earlier,” Wanda drawled out, as if hoping Billy'd pick up her train of thoughts, “some kind of a gene?”

  
  


“The mutant gene, yeah,” Billy answered, weary. He lifted an eyebrow. “What about it?”

  
  


“Is that how you got your powers?”

  
  


Billy was convinced – he had gotten proof over the years – that there was an external force out to get him and completely ruin his life.

  
  


“Uh, that's-” Billy picked up a book that he had already gone through before he put it back down, “complicated. But yeah, that's the gist of it.”

  
  


Wanda gave a small nod and looked down at her lap, rings clicking against her mug as she drummed her fingers against it. Billy turned fully toward her, letting a small sigh of relief when he was sure she wasn't looking. His head cocked to the side, Billy used her obliviousness to his advantage, to really watch her. For once, Billy wished he was able to hear thoughts that weren't his own. He'd would've been able to slip in and out without her noticing. Or maybe she would've, Billy couldn't be sure.

  
  


He could feel her frustration at not being able to read his thoughts, though. Billy had felt Wanda's curiosity on his powers during his small _pow-wow,_ her wonder at the similiraties she found with hers – his eyes shining blue instead of red. Billy had noticed her naivety, her confusion about her own powers and found himself mirroring her emotions. The never-ending alternatives and plotholes had him tripping on his words.

  
  


Wanda suddenly snapped her head up and, instead of flinching, Billy merely raised an eyebrow in interrogation.

  
  


“You knew us.”

  
  


Billy felt his heart drop to his stomach. “Yeah. I mean, I knew versions of you, y'know--”

  
  


He startled when Wanda jumped from the couch, crossing the room in a few strides and stopping in front of him. Letting out a nervous laugh, Billy hid his trembling hands in his pant pockets, rocking back and forth on his heels.

  
  


“Everybody knows the Avengers, no matter the universe.”

  
  


Wanda dismissed his words with a wave. “No, I mean you obviously met us, if not work with us. Or else, you wouldn't be comfortable with us.”

  
  


_Comfortable is a_ big _world,_ Billy thought. “Maybe,” he shrugged.

  
  


“If you've managed to find doppelgangers of the Avengers,” Wanda used her cup to point at him, gesturing excitedly with her other hand, “who's to say that you won't find this Earth version of people that could help? Like mutants?”

  
  


It took Billy some time – way longer that he'd like to admit – for him to understand. When he did, none of his obvious relief was faked. Billy let out a small chuckle and Wanda's grin widened, the latter bouncing on her toes in anticipation.

  
  


“You,” Billy pointed a finger at her, mere centimeters away from her nose, “are a genius. This is _exactly_ why you're my favorite. Okay,” he clapped once and looked up to the ceiling, “F.R.I.D.A.Y: can you help with this?”

  
  


“ _Of course I can,_ ” the A.I's response was almost indignated, “ _All I require is a name and I'll be able to work my magic._ ”

  
  


Billy's lips stretched into a crooked smile. “Sweet,” he whispered, hope blooming in his heart. “Alright, what do you know about Charles Xavier?”

  
  


There was a soft whir before an hologram of old, wrinkled and bald Charles Xavier appeared in front of Billy, a mysterious smile stretched on his face and gaze expressionless. Billy swallowed a laugh, looking away from its shimmering form to Wanda, the latter staring it with narrowed eyes.

  
  


“ _Pr. Charles Francis Xavier_ ,” F.R.I.D.A.Y announced, “ _born in North London, he currently teaches Genetics and Biophysics at Oxford University, in Oxford London.”_

  
  


Billy swallowed the urge to blurt “ _Professor X is_ fucking _British?”_ and instead, decided to store that information for later. He didn't ask if that was it either. That was pretty obvious. Instead, he went through a list of names through his mind.

  
  


“Who is he?” Wanda asked, reading through the informations listed next to British Charles Xavier's hologram.

  
  


“A mutant. Telepath, to be more specific. Pretty powerful, but not the most powerful,” Billy shrugged, “He could've helped, but then again, he's really into that Yoda/Dumbledore-ish method of never _really_ helping, so who knows really? Hey F.R.I.D.A.Y, can I give you a list of people to look at later?”

  
  


“ _You most certainly can.”_

  
  


Billy clicked his tongue and held two thumbs up before remembering that he was actually adressing an A.I. “Thank you.”

  
  


“Hey, there you are.”

  
  


The sound of Steve Rogers' breathy voice resulted in both of them turning their heads toward the opened door and, _wow,_ wasn't that creepy how in synch they were. Biting the inside of his cheek, Billy plastered a smile on his face and stuffed his hands in the pockets of his pants. Billy watched as Rogers' eyes focused on Wanda first, his gaze inquisitive, before it shifted to him. Billy did not squirm – nor did he blush – as the good Captain gave him an once-over. Clearing his throat, Rogers walked into the room, mockingly nonchalant as he stuffed a hand in his pocket and jutted his hip to the side.

  
  


“I'm glad those fit,” Rogers nodded to his monochrone outfit, his lips stretched into a half smile as he looked back to meet Billy's gaze. “How you feelin'?”

  
  


_Like I'm sick of this fucking question,_ “Better,” Billy breathed out, lifting his shoulders to his ears in a shrug.

  
  


“Good enough for lunch?”

  
  


“You're cooking?” Wanda asked, disbelief obvious in her voice and facial expression, “because if so, I think we're going to pass.”

  
  


Rogers sent her an unimpressed look. “Sam is.”

  
  


Wanda smirked. “Well, in this case,” she jabbed an elbow in his ribs, “what are you in the mood for?”

  
  


Frowning, Billy looked to Wanda, the latter staring back at him expectantly, before his gazed moved to Rogers. His expression was similar to Wanda's. Both seemed to be holding their breaths as they stared at Billy, as if lunch depended on whatever he was going to say next.

  
  


“Um,” Billy shrugged, “I'm good with whatever. No pork, though.”

  
  


Rogers nodded. “Gotcha.”

  
  


He, then, proceeded to walk backward and out of the room, throwing a look over his shoulder before disappearing out of view. With a sigh, Wanda gathered both empty mugs and went to follow Rogers out. She stopped at the threshold and turned around, a frown marring her features when noticing that Billy hadn't moved.

  
  


“Are you coming?”

  
  


“Yeah,” Billy breathed out, clearing his throat before he added, “just need to wrap my head around the whole having-lunch-with-Avengers-from-a-new-dimension thing. Go ahead, I'll be right out.”

  
  


Wanda's frown deepened. “Do you remember how to get there?”

  
  


Swallowing an irritated sigh, Billy plastered a smile on his face and gave a small hum, “I'll ask F.R.I.D.A.Y for directions if I get lost. _When_ I get lost.”

  
  


That managed to earn him a soft snort from Wanda, a smille tugging at her lips. With a small nod, she walked out of the library. Billy listened to her foosteps echo down the hall and waited to hear her voice join the raucous emaning from the living area before he moved to softly close the door. Leaning against the door, Billy let out a small breath, then looked up the ceiling.

  
  


“Hey F.R.I.D.AY?”

  
  


“ _I don't believe you've had the time or possibility to get lost, Billy.”_

  
  


“Ha! Yeah, no,” Billy pushed himself off the door, cracking his fingers against his chest. “I, huh, was wondering if you had access to my medical results?”

  
  


“ _I will, as soon as they are avaible. So will Doctor Chang and her team._ ”

  
  


“What about the Avengers?”

  
  


“ _Captain Rogers is the only allowed access to medical files.”_

  
  


Billy hummed, tilting his head to the side. “Hypothetically, would it possible for me to see those results first?”

  
  


Billy's question was met with silence and, for a second, he was afraid that F.R.I.D.A.Y had pulled on a silent alarm, alerting the others.

  
  


“ _It would,_ ” F.R.I.D.A.Y answered, her tone somewhat dubious. Billy allowed himself to breathe . _“I suppose you'd want to keep it a secret, too?”_

  
  


“That'd be my preference, yeah,” he tilted his head to the side, his brow furrowed. “Would that be okay?”

  
  


“It would,” F.R.I.D.A.Y repeated, “although I'd advise you not cause suscipion and give reason for them to not trust you. Whatever you're trying to hide will be discovered one way or another.”

  
  


Billy's eyebrows rose to his hairline. “That doesn't sounds omnicious at all,” he muttered to himself then, in a louder voice, added, “I've never been really good at following advices, but thank you. For the advice. And the rest.”

  
  


Silence met Billy's words, air buzzing with electrocity. Billy didn't have much experience being dismissed by an A.I – if he was to exclude Vision ignoring his very existence – but he was pretty sure that was it. Nodding to himself, he stuffed a couple books into the duffel bag at his feet and swung it over his shoulder. His stomach rumbled and Billy couldn't tell for sure if it was from hunger or dread.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> no one: 
> 
> absolutely no one: 
> 
> me: eh yo, charles xavier is a BITCH! 
> 
>  
> 
> Thanks for reading it, please leave a comment and/or kudos : did it suck? did it suck a lot ??? please do let me know. I love you all and I'm now going to bed. 
> 
> See ya freaks later!   
> Kadi.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so so much for reading ! Please, don' forget to comment to tell me your thoughts - even if it's to tell me it sucked fucking balls, i'm opened to critiscism (most of the time) - and kudos are always a plus. You can also follow me on Tumblr @oldbitchsteve and Twitter @kadtherinee. Till next time, guys ! 
> 
> Kadi.


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